


Insufferable Canoodling and Other Tales

by ehlonna



Category: Battleborn (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-10-22 00:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 50,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehlonna/pseuds/ehlonna
Summary: The last star could go out at any time. Everything they fought for could be lost. If they were going to die, they weren't going to die alone. Find someone to be by your side...Or be a miserable, complaining cantankerous old butthole like SOME people.





	1. Chapter 1

**Insufferable Canoodling and Other Tales**

**Chapter 1:**

Pendles/Alani

            Kleese was complaining.

Again.

This time it was because he caught Pendles and Alani “canoodling” in a corridor.

Ghalt felt a headache coming on.

Blame it on the proximity or the fact that there was the constant threat of universal extinction looming over their heads. Whatever the reason, the Battleborn members decided that if they were going to die, they were going to die happy—or if not happy, then at least they’d die while getting laid. Ghalt didn't mind if people hooked up particularly as it didn't affect their duties. Hell, he and Reyna were dating now. It was a good thing for most people. 

Not Kleese though.

Old bastard was always complaining about the hormones and debauchery happening on his precious ship. Ghalt figured he was just jealous.

“I’ll talk to them.” Ghalt sighed, cutting Kleese off mid-tirade. “Just let me handle it.”

“See that you do.” Kleese said. His nostrils flared. “It’s bad enough we all might be dead soon—ˮ

S _ome of us sooner than others,_ Ghalt thought with a smirk.

“But to have to deal with this constant… _onslaught_ of PDA just makes it worse!”

“Worse than the Varelsi destroying Solus and leaving us all to die in the dark?”

“Just about!”

Ghalt closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. “I will talk to them,” He said. He had no plans to do anything of the sort especially since he knew that Kleese was prone to exaggeration. Knowing Alani, the “pawing and canoodling” that Kleese was bitching about was most likely just her giving Pendles a peck on the lips. It was the promise of action that was enough to get the old codger out of his hair.

*

Pendles’ back lay against the cool glass of Alani’s tank. The gentle rocking of the water and the pleasantness of his most recent water treatment was lulling the Roan to sleep.

            “Hey!”

            His remaining eye shot open, and he blinked sleepily at the sight of a pouting Alani. "What's that, love?" he yawned. Alani splashed him in the face.

            “You weren’t even listening!”

“I was!”

“Really?” she scoffed. “So, what was I talking about?”

“Ambra and Galilea.” That was always a safe bet. Alani was always either complaining about Ambra or fawning over anything Galilea. If Pendles was insecure, he'd be worried. 

Alani studied him for a moment before sighing. “It’s just she’s so, ugh, _her_! What does Galilea even see in her? She’s awful.”

Crisis averted. Pendles settled back. He rubbed small circles on Alani’s back with his robotic arm, trying to be as gentle as possible. She shivered at the touch of the cool metal. “You hungry?” It was a deliberate attempt to change the conversation.

Alani sighed. “Yeah. I could eat.”

They climbed from the tank, taking a moment to dry off before getting dressed.

Pendles eyed Alani as she slipped on her top. "Remember when I told you pants go on your arms? Still, tickles me to this—oi!" the Roan ducked as a shoe came flying at his face. “Now that wasn’t very nice!”

“Neither is a citation for indecent exposure!” Alani shot back. “I could have been arrested, Pendakka!”

Pendles winced at the use of his formal name. “Aw don’t be that way. The second they realized you were from Akopos they would have let you off.”

“Ugh, Pendles that’s not the point. Give me back my shoe.”

“Nuh-uh. Nothin’ doin’.” Pendles held it out of her reach. "You threw it. You come and get it." And of course, he tackled the second she got close. How could he not? 

They rolled on the ground until Alani managed to wrestle her shoe from him. “You are such a dork,” She muttered.  
            Pendles grinned. “True but I’m _your_ dork. All seriousness, though, we should probably get to Mess before Shayne and Aurox get there.” Who knew that a teenage girl and the omnidimensional horror tethered to her could pack away so much food?

They walked side by side, their arms around each other’s waists like they were holding their best mates up after a bender. That sort of thing used to annoy Pendles, but now that he was a participant, he could see the appeal. His tentacle arm wrapped around Alani’s waist, he sauntered down the hall. Kleese was coming in their direction, looking down at something on his datapad and muttering to himself. He glanced up when he heard Pendles laughing at something Alani said. His lip curled into a sneer. “ _Ugh_. More canoodling.” He muttered. “You two should be careful.” Kleese summoned his holo-kitty and stroked its back. “You don’t want to be doing that where people could see.” He smirked. “A little birdie told me that someone’s made a complaint to Ghalt about your excessive— _ugh_ —PDA.”

Pendles frowned. “Who the what now?”

“What?” Alani’s jaw dropped. “Someone’s been complaining about us?”

Kleese looked especially smug. "Oh yes. So, if I were you I'd keep _that_ —ˮ he waved a hand at them. “To a minimum.”

Alani started working herself into a tizzy. “This is unbelievable!” she said. “We weren’t doing anything wrong! You know who this has to be? Ambra!”

“Ambra?” Pendles repeated.

“Uh, Ambra?” Kleese parroted, nervously.

Alani threw her arms up. “Of course! This is so her!” The healer pulled away from Pendles and started pacing. She was getting angrier by the second. “She can’t stand the sight of other people being happy! That’s what happens when your heart is nothing but a black icicle of…of ice!”

Pendles studied Kleese who was starting to get twitchy as Alani’s ranting continued. “Why would Ambra even care about PDA?” The Rogue mused aloud. Kleese winced. “I mean; it’s not like we were leaving stains or something.”

Kleese opened his mouth to answer, but Alani cut him off. “Duh!” she said. “What part of black icicle heart don’t you understand! Aaargh! I’m going to give that sun-worshiping witch a piece of my mind!”

“Er, I could have sworn I saw Ambra in the mess hall.” Kleese tried to sound nonchalant. He failed due to the beads of sweat on his brow, but he tried.  “Better hurry or you’ll miss her.”

“Thanks, Kleese.” Alani growled and stormed off.

Pendles moved to follow her, keeping his eye trained on the LLC scientist. The old man gave a half-hearted wave before floating off in his chair, muttering something about chemicals and Bunsen burners being left on. Pendles let him slink off. He knew where to find him.

Pendles caught up to Alani just in time to hear her shout, “What is your deal?” at Ambra who had her back toward her.

The Silent Sister whirled around. “My deal,” she bellowed. “Is that that yappy fleabag had the _audacity_ to chew on my scepter and no one around here wants to deal with it!”

Both Alani and Pendles were confused by that until Pendles noticed Montana standing in front of Ambra a ball of fluffy black fur cradled in the crook of his massive arm.

Constable Cuddles had been brought onto the ship after Rendain’s ass-kicking and subsequent banishment into Varelsi space. The tiny lapdog didn’t belong to anyone per se, the crew just made sure he was fed and the minion robots made sure to clean up any presents he left behind, but other than that Constable Cuddles—like Oscar Mike’s cats—was free to roam.

Montana held up a hand in a placating motion. “Ambra, he wasn’t chewing on anything.” The giant said. “He was just sort of sniffing at it.”

“That’s even worse!” Ambra argued. "Intent to chew!" she narrowed her eyes. "Why was that little mongrel even allowed on the ship?"

“Stop trying to change the subject!” Alani said. “I know it was you who’s been complaining about us to Ghalt about our quote excessive PDA end quote.”

The Jennerit priestess snorted. “Why would I care about your hand-holding, Child?”

Alani bristled and took a step forward. “Don’t call me a child!”

“Whatever,” Ambra replied. “Your boring little hand-holding and pecks on the cheek hold no interest to me or anyone else. Begone with you, I have more pressing matters.”

“Don’t you turn your back on me!” Alani grabbed Ambra’s arm.

The Silent Sister slapped the healer’s hand away, eyes blazing. “Keep your filthy hands off of me!” Ambra seethed.

“Oh, I’m about to put more than a hand on you!” Alani screamed.

Pendles searched the room wildly. He looked over at Rath who was watching the exchange with growing concern. “Galilea,” Pendles mouthed. The swordsman nodded and quickly went to retrieve her. If anyone could defuse this situation, it was Galilea. "Ladies, please." Pendles knew he had to stall. “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

“I’m the epitome of civility," Ambra said haughtily. “If you want to worry about someone worry about your little blue friend.”

“Guys, Constable Cuddles isn’t enjoying all this yelling and hostility.” Montana tried to interject.

“Well, why don’t I just jettison that mongrel into space?” Ambra snarled. She reached for the dog. “I’m sure the cold, vast unending void would do wonders for the little beast!” Montana took a step backward.

“Don’t you dare touch Constable Cuddles!” Alani moved to block Ambra’s path. “He hasn’t done anything to you!”

"He exists, and that's bad enough!"

“You’re a bully! You’ve always been a bully! I can’t believe—ˮ

“I will not stand here in be berated by a child who—ˮ

“—You haven't changed! Still think you're above everything—ˮ

“—I was a beacon of order and power before you were a twinkle in your father’s eye!”

“Enough!” Pendles yelled. “Alani, calm down. Ambra’s right.”

Alani took a step backward. She looked like the air had been knocked out of her.

Ambra placed a hand on her hip and looked triumphant. “Well said, Assassin.” The Silent Sister smirked.

“Yeah,” Pendles continued. “I mean Constable Cuddles is a bit of a nuisance. Always barking—ˮ

“Incessantly so!” Ambra growled.

“Drooling—ˮ

“Like a running faucet!”

“It’s like Rendain didn’t even bother to train him, yeah?” Pendles sighed. “I mean he fancied himself the leader of the Jennerit Empire but look at the way he handled his pet. No wonder everything just went down the gutter.”

“A sad state of affairs,” Ambra agreed with a shake of her head.

“And that’s why I think it’s noble that Ambra is so willing to admit that she’s not up to the challenge.”

Ambra’s mouth hung open in a most inelegant fashion. Behind her, Alani's wounded and betrayed expression morphed into dawning realization. She started to grin but quickly morphed it into something more neutral.

“Challenge?” Ambra sputtered. “I beg your pardon?”

Pendles nodded. He took a seat and started fiddling with his kamas. “Yeah. I mean, I thought that with all your talk about order and discipline you'd rise to the occasion of training little Constable Cuddles there, but I guess you figured that since Rendain, the leader of the Jennerit Empire—ˮ

“He usurped the throne!” Ambra screeched. “Betrayed Empress Lenore! He’s not fit to lead anything!”

“I totally agree.” Pendles nodded. "I mean just look at poor Constable Cuddles. Don't they always say that pets are like children? Children need a regimen. They need discipline. Pets aren't that different, yeah? I bet that you could do it. I bet you could train Constable Cuddles 'til he's not only the perfect little gentleman but truly worthy of that constable title. Prove to everyone that Rendain was as big a loser as we always thought.”

Ambra pondered this in silence. Alani gave Pendles two thumbs up and a bright smile. Ambra turned and stalked toward Montana who was still on guard. She took Constable Cuddles from his arm and studied him for a moment. She eyed his folded ears, his large dark brown eyes, and his puffy, fluffy fur.

Galilea came crashing into the mess hall. The Wraith of Bliss had come directly from her quarters. She wore a pair of dark green UPR-issued sweats and beige tank top and no shoes. “Ambra what—ˮ she began.

The Silent Sister floated past her, Constable Cuddles held in her arms. “Galilea, come! We’ve adopted!” was all she said before she swept out of the room.

The Wraith of Bliss looked stupefied. She looked over at Pendles and Alani who both offered her shrugs and “what can you do” expressions. Deciding that some questions were best left unanswered, Galilea left the mess hall.

Alani whooped and threw her arms around Pendles’ neck. “That was amazing!” she grinned. Alani leaned in to whisper. “I feel like someone deserves something special. We should get our meals to go.”

Pendles liked the sound of that. "Oi, Foxtrot!" he waved his arm and ran over to the kitchen. "Mind wrapping up something for Alani and me?"

“Sure thing,” the clone said. “Least I can do since you stopped those two from dukin’ it out.”

“Pshaw,” Pendles said dismissively. “They weren’t—”

"Oh yeah, they were. Alani totally looked like she was seconds from throwing a punch, dude." Whiskey Foxtrot assembled two to-go plates. "Probably would have ended in bloodshed and Ghalt throwing them both into the brig. Worst of all, they probably would have broken some shit in here. I mean, we _just_ got everything replaced after El Dragón and ISIC’s wrestling match. So yeah,” Whiskey Foxtrot slid him the containers. “Thanks for handling that.”

Pendles and Alani made their way back to Alani’s room. Technically, Pendles had a room, but it was smaller due to him mainly living at the Rogues’ base. Reyna refused to share a ship with Ghalt even though the Rogues had started spending more time with the other factions both for socializing and mission briefs. Reyna compromised by letting her ship drift close to NOVA.

Pendles scrolled through the encrypted messages on his datapad while Alani figured out which holodrama she wanted to watch. Pendles preferred the horror ones filled with gore (on the threat of death, he'd admit that he also liked musicals) while Alani liked anything that bright and had a happy ending. She also liked the wrestling, but few people knew that.

“Have we watched all of Starmite the Haresburra?” Alani asked from over by her shelf.

Pendles kept scrolling. “We’re on Season 2. Um, Episode 3 I think. Starmite and Jim-Jam had been captured by Nasty Gnarls.” Starmite the Haresburra was a popular cartoon series featuring a happy-go-lucky haresburra and his plucky gang of friends having adventures that always concluded safely at the end of thirty minutes. Alani loved it and would sing along with the opening. Pendles thought it was alright.

“Okay cool.” Alani turned the holovid on before sliding into the pool next to Pendles. The jaunty tune filled the room and Alani started to bounce along with the beat. “Starmite! He’s so fluffy! Starmite, he’s so cuddly! Starmite is your friend! Watch him skip! Watch him jump! Watch him—Pendles, stop recording me.”

“What?” The Roan grinned and continued holding the datapad up. “And deprive Solus of this? Never!”

Alani swiped at him. “Ass,” she growled. “Knock it off.”

Pendles chuckled but turned off the recorder. “Shame. You would have gotten a million views of the Holonet.” He went back to work.

Alani turned over and placed her chin on his chest. “What are you working on?”

"I'm going back and forth with a potential client. Working out details and whatnot.”

The water monk tensed. Pendles looked over his pad. This was an old argument. One he didn’t feel like having again. “Alani…”

To his surprise, the Akopoan simply sighed and turned back over. “No, it’s fine.” She said. “I mean I’m _not_ fine with it. Not really, but this is your job.” Alani waved a hand. “I just get scared.”

“Aw, love.” Pendles set the pad down on the pool's edge. He nuzzled Alani's hair. "The day I can't handle a victim, is the day I hang up my kamas and retire.”

Alani was not amused. “You’re not invincible.” she stared pointedly at his missing eye and remaining arm.

“I know that. I’m not that arrogant.” Pendles snorted. “Leave that to Benedict.” He hugged her. “Look, I'll check-in the second I arrive planetside, the second before I go hunting, and the second I cleave their head from their body—ˮ

“I don’t think I want to know about that part,” Alani shuddered.”

“And” Pendles continued. “When I get back, how about we plan a trip to Galus-9?”

“Galus-9?” Alani squealed. She gave him a full grin, something she rarely did due to being self-conscious of her sharp teeth. “You’d take me there?”

"I most certainly would," Pendles said. “A little birdie told that there’s going to be a Starmite-Con held there this year—ˮ

Alani gasped.

“With Q & A with the original cast—ˮ

“Oh my stars!” Alani’s hands fluttered.

“ _And_ a free autograph and t-shirt to VIP ticket holders signed by no other than Starmite the Haresburra himself, Chax Marrenian.”

Pendles was pretty sure the noise Alani made was on a frequency only dogs could hear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she said between each peck.

"No worries, love," Pendles replied. “Now hush, we’re missing the show.”

*

“Mail call!” Benedict screeched. The Aviant was the first in line for the Holonet monitor. He scanned the lines of names for his own. Benedict cursed. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath. “Hey, Blue Girl looks someone sent you a message. Congratulations.” The Aviant rolled his eyes.

"Me? But I never get anything." Alani moved to the screen, and sure enough, there was her name and an encryption code beside it. "Oh. Oh! Oh wow! What do I do?"

Benedict had taken a seat and was carving “Benedict is Awesome” into the table. “Well, you go somewhere private and use the encryption they gave you to read the message.” Benedict looked up as doors opened. He got to his feet as Thorn walked in, eyes trained on her datapad. “Mornin’, Thorn!” Benedict grinned.

The Aelfrin Ranger glanced up. “It is 3:00,” She said. Thorn walked over to the monitor and searched for her name.

“Oh uh yeah.” Benedict laughed. “It sure is. So, what are you reading?”

“Sociopolitical Discourse of the Aztanti.”

“Fuuuuuck. I mean, that sounds…um…awesome? Is that for your book club?”

Thorn frowned. “I am reading this for fun. Montana picked another romance book for book club.”

Alani watched Benedict curiously. She’d never seen him be nice to anyone who wasn’t... well, she’d never seen him be nice. And yet here he was kinda sort of making conversation with Thorn and not insulting her.

Weird.

She had more important things to do, though. Alani ran to her quarters and typed the encryption code into the datapad that Pendles got her. The Roan looked up from his packing. “What’s all the excitement about, Lani?”

“I got a letter!” Alani whispered gleefully. “A real letter!”

Pendles got up and made his way to her. He tried to read the message, but Alani moved out of the way. “Me first!” she protested. “I’ll let you see it in a minute I swear. I just—it’s just…” She floundered trying to explain.

Luckily, Pendles understood. "I get it," he said holding up his prosthetic hand in a placating manner. “I’ll let you savor it. Just give me a yell when it’s okay for me to peek.”

Alani agreed quickly eager to discover the contents of her mysterious message. The young Akopoan water monk read the letter. Then she reread it. Then reread it again. “Ohhh! Pendles!”

The Roa came bounding over. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong! Everything is amazing!” Alani grabbed him by the shoulders and started to shake him. “A survivor, Pendles! Another Akopos survivor made contact with me! He’s reaching out to anyone who survived the Jennerit assault on Akopos! Look!”

Pendles took the datapad and read it.

_Alani of the Emula,_

_You do not know me, and you have no reason to seek me out, but I wish to meet you. I am like you, a survivor of the Jennerit Imperium’s destruction of Akopos. I am also a writer which is one of the reasons for my contacting you. I want to meet more survivors because I want to write them as a way memorialize those we have lost. It may be asking too much, but can we meet? As you are the last known survivor of your order, I would love to have your story. Here are the coordinates to my home. I look forward to hearing from you._

_Daznian Rinn_

 

Alani waited patiently for Pendles to finish reading. She grinned at him when he finally set the pad down. Her smile faltered because he wasn’t reacting like she assumed he would. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought you’d be more psyched.”

"I'm just processing it," Pendles told her. “It’s just a little strange. I mean, who is this guy? How did he get off of Akopos? I never got a message from this ‘Daznian Rinn’ fellow.”

"He was probably off-world like you," Alani pointed out. "And he probably doesn't know about you because there wasn't time to make a refugee manifest." The water monk's eyes darkened. "If you weren't already off the planet than you had no chance of survival."

Pendles slid the pad away and pulled her into a hug. She needed physical contact when she got like this. “Hey now, you survived,” He reminded her.

“Because of dumb luck,” Alani grumbled. She pressed closer to him. “I just _had_ to see what was on that ship.”

“If you hadn’t been on the ship you would’ve died.”

"Well, I was, and I didn't. I got to see everyone I ever called a friend get boiled alive, and now I work with one of the people responsible for that." Alani grimaced. "I'm so, so, _so_ lucky.”

Pendles couldn't say anything to that, so he said nothing. He just held her and they sat in silence. Survivor’s guilt was terrible enough as it is, but Alani had it so much worse. Pendles knew she still had nightmares even if she refused to talk about them. The fact that Ambra was pardoned for any acts that she had committed under orders of Lothar Rendain when she joined the Battleborn was just another added blow.

“You know what?” Pendles said finally. “I think you should do it.”

Alani tilted her face up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Give this guy your story.”

She smiled. “I could tell him about you.” Alani offered. “He should hear your story too.”

“Ah well,” Pendles coughed. He removed his tendril arm from around her waist and rubbed his neck. “I’ll pass if it’s all the same to you. Look, if this guy talks to me the only story he’ll get is the one where I tell him how I was itching to get off Akopos. I never planned on going back save for me mum and dad’s funerals. The people who perished don’t deserve that.” Pendles moved his arm back to embrace Alani. “Now, if he talks to you he’ll get the real history. The best places to gaze into the Undersky. The history of our planet and its people as it was meant to be told. You’ll do them justice, Alani. I wouldn’t.”

“Pendles,” Alani sounded like she was holding back tears. “That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, well good luck proving that.” The Rogue grinned.

Alani sighed and nuzzled his neck. “You need to finish packing?” she mumbled against his skin.

“Nah. I’m almost done. Few more throwing stars and another couple of vials of venom and I’m set.” Pendles smiled. “Wanna stay like this a little longer?” He felt Alani nod. “Take your time, love.”

*

His mark was laughingly easy to dispatch. It was almost disappointing. Pendles dropped the proof of death to his employer, collected his money and left a business card, and returned to the Rogues base in the Detritus Ring. He was a little surprised to see NOVA so close to their zone, especially since anything Peacekeeper-affiliated tended to raise the hackles of the Ring’s inhabitants.

Reyna was waiting for him when he walked through the door. “We need to talk.” She said in place of a greeting. “Follow me.”

Pendles sighed. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it. The fact that I just got back should be testament enough.” He lowered himself into a seat.

Reyna didn't have an office per se. She had a room filled with seats and a desk scattered with gun parts, empty noodle containers, and half empty bottles of beer.  "I have some bad news," Reyna told him. "I would usually ease into this, but I respect you too much to draw this out.” She slid him a datapad. "You need to hear this."

Pendles slid the pad closer and pressed play on the audio message displayed on the screen.

The message was static-filled and cut off in some places, but it was without a doubt—

“Alani,” Pendles whispered. “Why is she screaming? Why is—Is that why Ghalt and his people are here? Are we mounting a rescue?” he started to get up. “Let me just grab—ˮ

“Pendles!” Reyna cut him off. “We aren’t doing anything right now. We need a moment to think and to plan.” The Rogue commander sighed. “Look, I know you’re freaking out but listen. This,” she gestured at the datapad. “This has ‘trap’ written all over it.”

“Alani needs us! She was screaming! Whoever has her is hurting her!” Pendles couldn’t believe this. “It’s because she’s Eldrid isn’t? Reyna, that is such shite and you know it.”

Reyna got to her feet and leaned over her desk, eye flashing. “Okay first off, I’m going to need you to dial it down about five notches. Secondly, I never said we weren’t going to go help her. Ghalt says—”

“So we’re kowtowing to UPR now are we?” Pendles laughed bitterly. “Amazing! I could have sworn being a Rogue meant not doing that. His dick must be amazing if you’re ready to throw everything you stand for—ˮ

Reyna had rounded her desk and delivered a right hook that knocked Pendles on his ass before he even finished the sentence. "You're upset," Reyna said with icy calmness. "I understand that. However, don't you _ever_ take that tone with me or imply that who I am fucking has some sort of sway over my choices. We aren’t going after Alani right now because that message we got? Yeah, it’s a hacked together piece of shit which you would realize if you weren’t so hyped up and close to the situation.”

Pendles clenched his teeth but said nothing, so Reyna continued. "We need time to plan. We need more info. We aren't going somewhere blind. So, in short, you're going to your quarters, and you're going to cool the fuck down because if you do not, I will fire your ass out an airlock! Do I make myself clear?"

The Roan assassin stared sullenly at his commander. His jaw ached, and he was pretty sure that she'd loosened a tooth.

“Pendakka!”

“Yeah.” He muttered. “I get it. I’ll just be on my way then.”

*

_Well, Reyna’s going to be pissed._

That’s the conclusion that Pendles reached as he piloted the stolen UPR vessel to the coordinates that both the message from Daznian Rinn and Alani’s message of distress shared.

Pendles’ grip tightened on the steering controls. Daznian _fucking_ Rinn. Pendles couldn’t wait to give the tosser a taste of his venom. "I'm going to gut him. Yes, I am." The Roa sang to himself. “Going to gut him so good.”

Pendles wasn’t familiar with the swamp planet that Daznian was staying on, but it was too close to Jennerit territory for his comfort. Still, Pendles doubted that even those vampire cosplayers would dare to set foot here. They’d probably be too afraid of getting mud and swamp slime on their goth regalia not to mention the humidness made everything feel gross and suffocating. Mosquitoes didn’t help either. Pendles was smart and parked his stolen UPR ship on the very outskirts of a landing pad set up to receive supplies. The skimmer sank into the soft mud, but it wasn’t far down enough to be too concerning. Besides, beggars couldn’t be choosy especially if they needed the element of surprise. The sensors picked up on an energy signature in what appeared to be an abandoned colony compound, behind a massive stone wall. Someone some time ago had tried to set up shop here, then figured it wasn't worth the trouble and fucked off. Now Daznian was squatting here. Not for much longer if Pendles had a say in the matter.

The swamp mud would be an issue. Nothing more suspicious than footprints appearing out of nowhere. Luckily, Pendles was able to make his way using the trees and various stones. It was a bit of a workout, and it took a little longer, but it got the job done. 

Pendles was able to use a tree branch to land on the top of the wall. Carefully and quietly he scaled down the side of it until he was close enough to drop down on the ground. Mercenary thralls patrolled the area. Pendles could also see a Shaman and an Executioner. There were Thumpers positioned on the roofs of the buildings and a lone sentry standing guard at the largest building at the end of the compound. It seemed Daznian wasn’t what he appeared to be.

_Right then_ , Pendles gripped the handles of his kamas. _Let’s get this started shall we?_

The Thralls were always the easiest to dispatch. The Shaman and Executioner were going to be a pain in the ass that he had no time for. Alani’s screams were still fresh in his mind. Pendles didn’t have time for this foolishness. He had to be in and out. That meant slipping past all of the lackeys and getting to the big boss himself.

His sneakers squeaked as he moved, but the Thralls ignored the sounds. Pendles had a feeling that this bunch was especially not bright since one of them actually ran into him, paused then just shrugged it off. Whatever. It made his job that much easier.

As Pendles was squeezing through the door's opening and past the sentry, a Thrall got a little too close for comfort. Unlike the others, this one seemed to be aware that something was off and started following Pendles. A ribbon of drool hung from the Thrall’s lip as he sniffed his way toward Pendles. The Roa was starting to get worried. Deciding it was best to get rid of the nuisance before he attracted unnecessary attention, Pendles materialized. The Thrall snarled and barreled toward the assassin. “Oi! Fuck off!” Pendles stabbed the Thrall through the temple with the sharpened beak of Komiri skull then tentacle-slapped him in the face to add insult to injury. Once that was over Pendles planned to recloak and find Alani.

Except for one little hiccup.

_I’m not cloaking. Which means…_

Pendles turned and was greeted by a blow from something metallic, blunt, and heavy. _Sloppy Pendles. Very sloppy_ , was the last thing he thought before slipping into unconsciousness.

*

The second Pendles opened his eye he was blinded. He blinked until the stars were out of his eye. The Roa took stock of his current situation.

Well, he was under a lamp with an annoyingly bright light for one. He was strapped to a cold metal table. On one side of him, he could see a table with various surgical instruments and on the other side, so close and yet so far away, were his kamas, smoke bombs, and his throwing stars.

On the plus side, he was alive.

“Ah, my guest is finally awake” a reedy voice commented. “How are you feeling?”

Pendles heard the gears of his table grind as it shifted to an upright position. Ah. He was in a lab. That boded well. His captor came into view. “Daznian Rinn, I presume?” Pendles said dryly.

His captor was a Jennerit. A whip-thin man, balding with a head that was easily 80% forehead; the Jennerit’s lower half composed of six black and red metal legs and they clacked against the uneven stone floor. The Jennerit wore a lab coat that had seen better days. Finishing off his look, his captor wore a pair of round goggles that magnified his red eyes. Pendles got a buggy vibe from him and wondered why he’d the decided to go the whole spider route. Maybe he'd ask him—right before slit his fucking throat. The stranger chuckled. “Clever, yes?” he preened. He spread his arms in a grand sweeping gesture and proclaimed, “I am Dr. Cornelius Mazcavi.” The doctor paused for effect.

Pendles stared at him. “And?” he said.

Dr. Mazcavi deflated. “Yes. Well.” He coughed. “I don’t know why I expected a creature as insignificant as you to know of my genius. No matter.”

“Where’s Alani?”

Mazcavi skittered forward. “Who?”

“Blue-green skin and hair? You got her here by pretending to be an Akopoan survivor?”

“Ah yes! Her.” Dr. Mazcavi sneered displaying needle-thin teeth in black gums. “Awful girl. She pretended to have… _female_ issues and when I unlatched her to have a Thrall escort her to the restroom she summoned a tidal wave! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get everything dry? Well, not _me_. The Thralls. That’s beside the point though. A rude, awful girl! I’m not even sorry she escaped.” He gave a little shrug.

Pendles grinned. _Attagirl._ She wasn’t here.

Dread knotted his stomach.

Shit. She wasn’t here.

“So that message?” Pendles said.

Mazcavi’s face settled back into a mask of superiority. “Totally fake. Suffice it to say; when the little Akopoan left, I was understandably miffed. I manufactured the recording in the hopes of attracting someone foolish enough to come and rescue her.” His eyes had a maniacal glimmer. “After all, I do need a specimen to study. And imagine my pleasure when one of my cameras spotted you exiting a UPR ship. Are they just giving those out to anyone nowadays?” Mazcavi threw back his head and laughed. “And how lucky am I that I got not just an Akopoan but also a Roa this time around? It’s like Fate has smiled upon me.”

“Listen, Mazcavi—ˮ

The Jennerit surged forward his footsteps a staccato against the stones. “ _Doctor_!” he hissed. “I am _Dr._ Mazcavi. Not Mr. and certainly not simply Mazcavi.” Dr. Mazcavi leaned in until he was nose with Pendles. His breath smelled of cheese, coffee, and—somehow—mold. "I worked for that title, and you will damn well use it."

Pendles was not impressed. “Your breath makes me wanna weep, mate," he told him.

“Oh just wait,” Dr. Mazcavi snickered. “Once my study begins, then you’ll know what true despair is!”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so! You see my dear lad; it has been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of working on a living specimen.” Mazcavi wiggled his long, thin fingers in excitement. “Nothing better than a good old fashion vivisection if you ask me and look at my luck! A Roa!” The doctor went over to the counter and lifted an IV bag of bright green fluid. He examined it for a moment before attaching it to its equipment. “Do you know that before I was stripped of my license and rank and forced into exile by those unimaginative, talentless hacks, I created this?” he nodded at the bag. Mazcavi’s eyes glittered as he inserted the needle into Pendles’ arm. “It’s a special type of anesthesia. Well, perhaps anesthesia is the wrong word. Anesthesia is meant to put you under so you feel no pain. This, my pride and joy, not only keeps you awake but will also keep you aware.” Mazcavi laughed at Pendles’ look of horror. “You’ll feel everything too. My serum simply keeps you from dying from the shock. Genius, no? I created this when I found out that I would be performing a heart modification on Razi Novarius, the inscrutable lout who was making moves on my fiancée.” The Jennerit sneered. He started to undo Pendles’ restraints. They were unneeded after all. His special serum was fast-acting and kept his victim—er, patient completely immobilized while it was in his system. “We didn’t get married, of course. My sweet Lucia decided that we were too different. Fah! Regrettably, I took the rejection poorly and scarred her face while she slept. She had a hard time finding a new beau after that!” Mazcavi chuckled. He pulled his surgical implements closer. “At any rate, after working on that idiot Novarius I was hooked.  Of course, when the others found out they were horrified." He started an incision under Pendles’ throat. “They called me a monster. Called me crazy! They were just lacking vision!”

Pendles didn’t know what was worse, the pain or Mazcavi’s incessant need to monologue. Dr. Mazcavi paused to examine the Rogue’s chest cavity. Pendles' blood was leaking onto the floor, and the Roan was almost dizzy. And dear lord the man’s breath! As if being carved open wasn’t bad enough Pendles had to deal with that. The man’s breath could peel the paint off a fleet of ships!

_And does he have to hum like that?_ Pendles thought.  

“Must you twitch like that?” Mazcavi complained. “It’s very distracting.”

“Firstly, fuck you. Secondly, I ain’t twitchin’ so much as I am breathin’.” Pendles hissed. “And I ain’t stoppin’ anytime soon.” The good doctor sighed in response but offer no other response.

After a minute of blissful silence, Dr. Mazcavi paused in his ministrations to look over what he’d done so far. “What do you think?”

Pendles glared at the doctor with as much hatred as he could express in a single eye. “I wanna fuckin’ murder you.” He snarled.

“Yes, yes,” Mazcavi waved a bloody hand in dismissal. “I meant about what I told you. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Nah, mate. I don’t think you’re crazy.” Mazcavi actually seemed to brighten at that. Pendles continued, “See calling you crazy is a disservice to people with mental illness.” Pendles bared his teeth in a parody of a grin. “You’re not mentally ill. You’re a self-obsessed jackass with a god complex who can’t stand being told no. You're so convinced that you're such a genius that you completely oblivious to what a shite person you are, and that's coming from a guy that kills people for a livin’.”

Dr. Mazcavi’s nostrils flared in silent rage. He took a few steadying breaths before lifting his scalpel. “Well, I’m going to have fun finding out which of your organs are vital,” he seethed. “How about start with this one, hmm?” he hovered over what was clearly Pendles’ lung.

The Roa tensed. “What happened to keeping me alive?” he asked.

Mazcavi’s eyes glittered behind his goggles. “That was before you pissed me off.” He growled.

There was an explosion from outside that rocked the building. Mazcavi stepped backward. "Blasted Thralls," he cursed. "I swear; they are not worth the credits I paid for them.” His eight legs clicked against metal floor as he scuttled toward the door. “You lot better not have broken anything expensive or I’ll—ˮ

The door came flying off and Mazcavi skittered backward to avoid being struck by it. He blinked in confusion as took in the scene before him. 

His fortress was in chaos. Mercenary thralls were being pummeled left and right by what appeared to be an adorable penguin in a mech suit. The Thrall Shaman was assaulted by grenades thrown by a blue-skinned clone soldier wearing half a helmet. A vanimorph was attempting to chew the face off of the Thrall Executioner. Mazcavi scowled. “Blazing hells,” he muttered. “Insolent fools!” he moved to the side of Pendles’ operating slab. Quickly sliding open a panel located near the assassin’s head, he typed in a code. The operating slab began to hover, and Mazcavi towed it as he tried to make his escape. “I’m not losing another specimen.”

“Stay right where you are, pal.” Pendles almost wept at the sound of hearing Reyna’s voice. The Valkyrie had her gun trained on Mazcavi’s back. Shayne and Aurox were pushing their way inside followed by—

“Pendles?”

_Alani…_

“Pendles!” The water monk’s eyes immediately landed on Pendles. “Monster!” she screamed at Mazcavi.

Alani—

Dear sweet Alani.

 Alani who was sunshine and rainbows, who believed that stories should be happy and inspirational and was slow to anger—

Launched herself at the Jennerit doctor, climbed him like a tree, and sank her teeth into his neck. The Eldrid water monk tore out a sizeable chunk from Mazcavi’s, blood spraying onto her face and down her front.

Maybe it was the blood loss, but Pendles thought that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Reyna lowered her gun, mouth agape. “Did she just?”

“ _Yeah_ , she did!” Shayne grinned. “Alani, that was amazing!”

“Dibs on his liver!” Aurox said.

Mazcavi toppled over, the life slowly seeping out his eyes. Alani spat out the chunk of flesh in her mouth and ran over to Pendles. “Pendles! Oh gods, Pendles! Look at what he did to you.”

Pendles just stared up at her. _She’s so beautiful. Look at her, dripping blood down her chin. I love her. I wanna father her children._

Alani jerked backward.

Uh…

Pendles glanced at Reyna and Shayne who were both looking at him with almost identical looks of amusement.

Oh, gods. Had he said all of that out loud?

Well, shit.

“Um, I love you too?” Alani said. Her cheeks darkened as she leaned over to access the extent of his damage.

Goddammit fuck shit!

“I’ve lost a lot of blood,” Pendles blurted as both an excuse and explanation for what he said.

"I know, and we're going to get you out of here. Promise.” Alani’s voice was so soothing.

"We need to unhook him," Reyna said. She holstered her gun. "It'll make it easier to get him on the ship."

“Are you sure that doing that won’t kill him?” Whiskey Foxtrot asked appearing in the doorway. “We cleared out the rest of the mercenary Thralls, by the way. Woah,” the clone’s eyes widened at the sight of Mazcavi’s corpse and the pool of blood. “What happened to that guy?”

“Alani happened.” Shayne grinned.

"It was glorious," Aurox told him.

Alani ignored them. “I think that I can get this IV out and use my Wellspring to keep you stable but to be honest I don’t want to do a total heal.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Not with that giant chest injury.” Her eyes met Pendles’. “I want someone else to look over you and sew up your umm," she gestured at him.

“Entire fucking chest,” Whiskey supplied helpfully.

Alani nodded. “So here goes.” In one fluid movement, the monk unhooked the IV and covered Pendles in an orb of water.

“Just keep me away from Orendi," Pendles muttered. He closed his eye, telling himself that he would only rest for a second, but it had been such a trying day, and the water felt so good…

*

 

Pendles awoke to bright light blinding him again. He could hear the beeping of a heart monitor and Alani’s quiet snores from the chair beside his bed. “Lani?”

The water monk roused from her nap and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "You're awake!" she yawned. "I'm so glad!" Alani leaned over kissed him on the forehead.

Then she punched him in the side.

“Oi!”

“Don’t ‘oi’ me!” Alani snapped. “What were you thinking?”

Pendles tried to glare at her. “I was thinking that I was coming to rescue you!”

“We _told_ you it was a trap." Reyna appeared at his bedside. She'd been leaning against the wall on his blindside waiting for him to awaken so she could give Pendles a proper chewing out. “If your silly ass had just waited for five minutes then you wouldn’t have missed Alani stopping by to ask for you.” Reyna frowned. “Some assholes at the docking station gave her some shit for being Eldrid, but I took care of them for you.”

Pendles tried to sit up. “Who was giving her shit?” he demanded.

“The Elroy Boys.”

“Those inbred fucks? Where do they get off—ˮ

“Stop trying to change the subject, Pendles." Alani cut in. She folded her arms over chest and glared at him. "You always think you know best and look what happened. You think I want to see my boyfriend with his chest open and his guts exposed? You think I wanted to see you in pain like that?" Her voice started to crack, and she had to look away. Alani wiped at the treasonous tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Pendles looked uncomfortable at the sight of Alani crying while Reyna just looked angrier. “Your half-ass attempt at a rescue almost got you killed.” The Rogue commander stated. “So let’s chat, Pendles. I told you not to do something, and you did it anyway. I told you that it was a trap and you ignored me." Reyna started to pace around the room. "That right there pissed me off. Then I get a call from Ghalt about you stealing a UPR skimmer.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “Gotta admit, that made me proud.”

"She was smiling for hours," Alani confirmed.

“Ghalt wanted to have a piece of you when we got here, but he saw the state of you and figured you’d been through enough.” Reyna frowned. “You’re lucky that Beatrix was able to sew you up—”

“Beatrix?!” Pendles bolted up. His eye darted around the room. "You let bloody Beatrix near me?" he started pawing at his chest and abdomen as if he could feel anything missing. "What the fuck?"

“Pendles, calm down.”

“Beatrix! Fucking Beatrix!”

"It's not like we had much of a choice. I couldn't heal you in that condition!" Alani tried to coax him back to the bed. "And it's not as if we left you alone with her." She added in a whisper.

Pendles looked at her. “You didn’t?”

Alani shook her head. “Miko was here providing her with assistance, and I was here."

That…actually sounded okay. Pendles allowed himself to relax and he settled back into bed. “She didn’t take anything from me?” he asked. “You watched her the entire time?”

Alani placed a hand over her heart. "I was here the whole time, and she was completely professional."

Pendles nodded. “Well, that’s okay then. Thank you.” He looked at Reyna. “And thank you, Commander. You didn’t have to come to save me—ˮ

“Bullshit.” Reyna scowled. “You think I’m going to leave one of my people to be some Jennerit asshat’s toy? Hell no! You’re a Rogue, Pendles. We may be a bunch of lawless, ruthless, violence-prone assholes but we protect our own. Now get some rest." Reyna turned to leave but stopped.  She pointed at Alani. “You may not care what I have to say, but at least listen to her if you really love her that much.” And with that Reyna left the room.

Pendles sighed and moved over as much as the bed would allow. Alani climbed beside him and molded herself against his side. Pendles put his arm around her. “You scared me.” She mumbled.

“I know,” Pendles sighed. "And I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

“Pendakka!”

“You want me to say I wish I hadn't done it, but I can’t because I don't! I would rather be sliced open a thousand more times than having it happen to you!” Pendles tightened his hold on her. “Look I don't have a lot of good things going for me, and I don't expect them. You're the exception. You are literally the best thing to ever happen to me, and sometimes I really question whether or not I deserve you." The Roa sighed again. “I didn't think. I wish I could say I had some sort of plan for your rescue and that I was going to sweep in like some gallant knight, but truthfully I all I thought was ‘Alani in danger' and everything else just sort of fell into place. It was dumb, and yes, now that I think about it, it was an obvious trap, but I didn't want to risk it. I didn't want to risk you."

Alani was silent while he spoke, but when he finished, she pinched his side. “You were reckless,” Alani said. “I appreciate the gesture, but you need to admit that if you had just listened to what Reyna had said there would have been no issue. Instead, you stole a ship, flew into danger, and were almost killed. And why? Because you thought I was in danger and needed to be saved. That is so unnecessary. I’m as much as a warrior as you.”

“Not by choice,” Pendles pointed out. “Out of necessity.”

“But I still can fight.” Alani sighed. “Like I said it was unnecessary, but still infuriatingly sweet.”

“I’d do it again.”

“Please don’t.”

They lay there for a moment listening to the monitor beep. “Where’s my hoodie?” Pendles asked, breaking the silence.

"It was soaked in blood. Where do you think it is?" Alani told him. She ran her finger over his chest along the place where Dr. Mazcavi had carved into him. “Beatrix does good work.” She commented. “When she and Miko finished there was barely anything for me to heal. Look, not even a scar."

“Pity that,” Pendles said sadly. “Do you have any idea how I could have used that to benefit EE? The stories I could have come up with!”

“Why am I attracted to you?” Alani groaned. “You are just the worst.”

Pendles grinned. “You don’t mean that.” He poked at her face with his tentacle arm.

Alani playfully snapped her teeth at the offending appendage. “So,” she said.

“So?” Pendles repeated.

“Are we going to talk about what you said?”

“I say a lot of things, Alani.”

“You told me you wanted to father my children.”

Pendles grimaced. “Oh. Ah,” he said. “Hey, does this bed move? I wanna sit up.”

Alani frowned. She pressed a button under on her side of the bed and the top half rose into an upright position. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

“Lani,” Pendles laughed sheepishly. “I was honestly hoping you’d forgotten.”

She grinned. “Well, I didn’t. Really, Pendles? Really? Children?” she chuckled.

“I was delirious!” But even Pendles had to laugh. “What?” he teased. “Don’t you want to have kids with me?”

Alani snorted. “Pendles, even if that were possible our children would be abominations.”

“What?” The Roa pretended to look offended. “How can you say that about our fake children? Why our children would be as unique and beautiful as us!"

“They’d have giant muppet heads!”

Pendles looked scandalized. “How dare you talk about our darling hypothetical muppet-headed children! Little Periwinkle and Hortense do not deserve that sort of abuse.”

Alani almost fell out of the bed she was laughing so hard. “Our kids are going to be bobble-headed sins against nature, and you want to name them Periwinkle and Hortense?" she wiped away the tears of mirth. "It's like you want them to be bullied."

Pendles grinned. “It’ll help them build character.” He said. Pendles shifted against the mattress. “All joking aside, I would totally have children with you if it were possible and if they wouldn’t look like hobbled together amalgamations.”

“That’s a big word.”

Pendles preened. “I try.”

Alani rolled her eyes. “You’re a dork.” She told him. Alani lay back down.

“Mm-hmm,” Pendles agreed. “Your skin feels a bit dry. When was the last time you were in your tank?”

Alani went still. “I wanted to be here when you woke up.” She admitted.

Pendles flicked her gently on the nose with his cybernetic fingers. “Well, when the mad doctor gives me the OK, how’s about we go for a swim?” The assassin smiled. “Then I think we should start making plans for Starmite-con.”

Alani lifted her head. “You still want to go?”

"I could use a distraction," Pendles said looking up at the ceiling. “And I did promise you.”

 Besides, a little R & R after this experience would be just what he needed. Solus wasn't going anywhere right now. Why not have some fun while they still could…

 

 


	2. Benedict Goes A-Courtin'

**Benedict Goes A-Courtin’**

**Chapter 2**

Benedict/Thorn

 

            He was staring again. He was aware of how creepy it was, but he couldn’t help it.

            You see, he was formulating a plan. The most awesome of awesome plans that was sure not to fail. All he had to do was think of said plan…and then put it into action!

            Which he would.

            Soon.

            Just, y’know, not right now.

But soon…

            “Soon.” Benedict whispered.

            Thorn looked up from her datapad. “Did you say something?

            Benedict laughed nervously. “Me? I didn’t say a word. Well, I did, but it wasn’t important. You know what? How about I go somewhere else? Let you get back to your reading. Sorry to bother you.” The Aviant wasn’t running. It was a strategic retreat.

            Finding a quiet place to sit and think was hard enough on a ship full of people, but it was especially hard today. The Rogues were going to dock soon and everyone was excited, not just because it meant Whiskey Foxtrot would be in the kitchen again, but because some of the Battleborn had significant others who were Rogues.

            Oscar Mike was running down the hallway, filled to the brim with energy. “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” he cheered. “Oh yeah!”

            Deande and Mellka trailed behind him, amused looks on their faces but ready to intervene if he got too rowdy. Benedict didn’t know the exact mechanics of their relationship. All he knew was that Mellka, Oscar Mike, and Whiskey Foxtrot bunked in Deande’s quarters because hers was the biggest. They also had to pool their credits to buy a bed big enough for all four of them.

            Alani was probably in her quarters using her excess energy to clean. At least she was quiet about it, unlike a certain clone who was currently doing somersaults down the hall. Benedict shook his head. He didn’t understand these people at all. Here they were getting excited for people who were here about a week ago. It irked him something fierce. Of course, it could be he was just in a pissy mood.

            Ghalt was walking toward Benedict. The captain had a spring in his step, a smile on his face, and a cloud of cologne clinging to him. “Evening, Benedict.” The UPR soldier nodded at the Aviant. “Ready to lose some credits?”

            That was another thing that happened when the Rogues docked: weekly game night. Now _that_ Benedict could get behind. “Not to sound insubordinate, sir,” Benedict grinned. “But I’m going to clean you out.”

            “We’ll see, Benedict.” Ghalt grinned back. “We will see.”

            “Fortune’s Favor is preparing to dock,” NOVA announced. “Oscar Mike, quit scuffing my floor.”

            Fortune’s Favor didn’t take long to dock. The Rogues exited the docking bay led by the Valkyrie herself, Reyna Valeria. Ghalt welcomed her with a kiss on the cheek. “Ms. Valeria,” he said. “Welcome aboard.”

            “Really?” Reyna rolled her eye. “You’re going to be all formal with me? Like I don’t suck your—ˮ

             “Not in front of the troops,” he hissed.

            “Please,” Reyna smirked. “My Rogues have said and heard worse. Ain’t that right, Foxtrot?”

            “You know it,” Whiskey answered. The clone soldier was lugging a box of groceries. “Sup, Ghalt?”

            “Foxtrot,” Ghalt said with a nod. “What’s on tonight’s menu?”

            Whiskey Foxtrot set down the box and stretched. “I’m thinking—ˮ Oscar Mike launched himself at Whiskey with a mighty scream. The older clone bared his teeth in a feral grin and grabbed Oscar out of the air and slammed him to the ground. “Oh so, we’re doing this now? All right then. Whatcha got, little man? Whatcha got?”

            Oscar Mike growled and kicked his way free. He shoved Whiskey away and drove his head into his midsection, knocking Whiskey onto the floor. “I’m going to get you this time!”

            “That all you got, Oscar?” Whiskey Foxtrot rolled them over the floor. Pendles, who was just coming in, looked up from his datapad long enough to sidestep the grappling clones.  “You got nothing!”

            “What is this?” Boldur stumbled in. The Ekkuni dwarf smelled of liquor and burning tires. “No fair! Boldur wants to wrestle too!”

            Whiskey Foxtrot had Oscar Mike in a headlock. Both of them looked up in horror as the Eldrid started barreling towards them laughing maniacally.

            “Bro, no!”

            “Stop, Boldur!”

            “Look out! Unless you wish to be crushed by Boldur’s mighty backside!” The woodsworn bellowed.

            Whiskey tried to shove the Eldrid away. “Why is someone so short so heavy?” he lamented.

            “Raaah! Smell Boldur’s pits puny clone boys!”

            Oscar Mike wheezed, a half-laugh half-groan that sounded like a strangled toad. He looked up. “Montana!” he called, sticking an arm straight up and waving it wildly to get the giant’s attention. Montana glanced in their direction as he snacked on a bag of chips. “Tag in, bro!”

            The chips fell to the floor forgotten as Montana took a running leap into the air. “Montaaaanaaa!” he sang as he dove into the pile, the others’ bones creaked in protest.

            “Oh god, my spine!” Whiskey wheezed with laughter. “Ugh, heavy bastards! So clones against non-clones?”

            “No way, bro!” Oscar Mike said as Montana helped him to his feet. “UPR against you scrubs.”

            “Betrayal!” Whiskey grinned. He rolled over onto his side and glanced at Boldur. “What d’ya say, Axe Man?”

            “Boldur and Foxtrot crush UPR soldier babies.”

            Reyna put her hands on her hips. “They do this every time,” she groaned. “Grab the box before they crush it.”

            Ghalt sidestepped the four of them as he went to retrieve the box of foodstuffs. “Putting this in the kitchen for you, Foxtrot.”

            “Thanks, Ghalt!”

*

            Benedict eyed Thorn from his seat in the mess hall. While most of the other factions sat with each other except for Phoebe and Kleese who would have spent the entire meal sniping at one another, Pendles and Alani who sat with each other when they didn’t eat their meals in their quarters, and Oscar Mike who grabbed his meal to go so he could spend time with his cats. Thorn usually sat with Boldur, but today she sat at the long table by herself. She was still engrossed with whatever she was reading. Was it still that politics book about the Aztanti or was she reading something for book club?

            “Benedict?”

            The Aviant almost squawked at the sound of his name. He side-eyed Montana who was looking at him worriedly from across their table. “What?” he sighed.

            “I was asking what you thought about Ghalt’s request to go to Bliss?” Montana speared a chunk of meatloaf and dunked it into his mashed potatoes. “The Varelsi portal bloom?”

“If Ghalt asks me to go, I’ll go.” Benedict muttered.  
“Something on your mind, buddy?”

Benedict frowned. He cut into his meatloaf with a knife, but speared the meat with a talon. “Was just wondering where Foxttrot got the idea to stuff meatloaf with cheese and cover it with bacon,” he lied. “And how he was able to get all this done in time with you fools wrestling in the docking bay.”

“To answer your first question,” Whiskey Foxtrot said from his seat, “I got the recipe from this old guy in a bar. And as for your second, ISIC helped me cook.”

Nearly every fork in the room paused inches away from mouths.

Whiskey chuckled. “He helped peel the potatoes. He’s really good with a knife,” the clone explained. “Should probably be concerned about that.”

“I must say that this meatloaf is quite charming.” Phoebe commented. The heiress was making a little mountain with what was left of her potatoes. “Not my usual fare, but it’s quite delightful.”

Reyna looked amused. “What? LLC chefs not capable of slapping together a meatloaf?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Heavens, no. I dare say Rupert would turn up his nose at the prospect of making a dish like this.” She spooned off the tip of her mountain and took a dainty bite. “His loss, if you ask me,” Phoebe said after swallowing. She wiped her mouth primly. “Right, off to my lab.”

“You’re going to miss dessert,” Whiskey pointed out.

Phoebe tutted. “Science waits for no one!” She grabbed her plate. “Think of the discoveries that I could be making.”

The Rogue grabbed another crescent roll. “It’s lemon chiffon cake.”

Phoebe sat back down. “Science is known to take a break every now and then.”

Once the meal was done and the dishes cleaned and put away, it was time for everyone’s favorite event: game night. The rec room was usually broken up into separate portions if they had too many people for the games they wanted to play.

“All right! All right!” Ghalt rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get Game Night started y’all! Toby? You sure you want to handle the blackjack table?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Ghalt,” the engineer replied. “I can do this! Sorry for yelling. It’s just I’m so pumped!”

Ghalt chuckled. “Easy, soldier. Thorn?” he called out to the Aelfrin heading for the door. “You sure you don’t want to play a hand? Come on! You might actually like it.”

The archer shook her head. “I want to finish this chapter then I will head to training room,” she said.

“Miss Thorn!” Alani jogged over to Thorn. She held her datapad in her hands. “I wanted to ask you about this word.” Alani had joined Thorn’s book club about a month ago as a way to get to know the other Battleborn better and make friends. “I’d normally look it up, but I think it’s a colloquialism because the app I’m using doesn’t recognize it and Pendles asked me not to look it up on the net—ˮ

“Please, don’t,” Pendles said from the poker table.

“—because last time I got sent to random site and it downloaded a virus on the pad and Pendles said we might as well burn it because—ˮ

Thorn interrupted Alani’s stream of words. “Just show me the word, child.” She said.

“Oh! Right!”

Ghalt sighed. The Eldrid ranger never participated in game night. He had a feeling she was bothered by the noise, but was just too polite to say anything.

“Boldur does not understand why Boldur is not allowed to join night of games!”

Reyna looked up from where she was dealing cards. “Boldur’s not allowed to join the ‘night of games’ because Boldur refuses to leave his axe in his room and is a sore loser!”

“One time!” Bolder protested. “One time Boldur was sore loser! And it was long ago!”

“It’s been five times and that was just last week,” Attikus said. The Thrall revolutionary was sitting at the Blackjack table. “And need I remind you of the Checkers Incident?”

Everyone, excluding Boldur, shuddered.

“Fine!” Boldur snapped. “Boldur does not need baby games! Boldur will have his own fun! So there!” he stomped off.

Toby watched him go. “I dunno, guys. I feel kind of bad.”

“He’ll be fine.” Reyna said. “We’ll take him to get ice cream later.”

And with that Game Night was officially under way.

“Alani, why are you here if you’re not going to play?” Mellka asked as she looked over her cards. The water monk sat beside Pendles reading her book.

“Oh that’s easy,” Pendles remarked. “She’s here to offer me love and support because she’s an amazing girlfriend.”

“I’m also here to make sure he doesn’t spend all of our convention money.” Alani said, still looking down at the datapad.

“Also that.”

“Enough talking,” Reyna said. She threw down a few tokens. “Let’s make this game interesting, ya’ll.”

Benedict looked at his cards but his mind was on Thorn. He glanced up to see her sitting outside of the rec hall, reading her book. The Aviant knew that he had to do this the right way, but the trouble was he had no idea how to go about it.

            Maybe it was time to, _ugh_ , ask for help.

            “I’m thinking of courtin’ Thorn,” Benedict said nonchalantly as threw down three tokens.

            There was a delayed response as if the words and the person speaking them didn’t quite connect in everyone’s brain.

            “Thorn?” Ghalt blinked. “As in Teshka Elessamorn?”

            “Yeah.” Benedict nodded. “I was thinkin’—ˮ

            “As in the Aelfrin ranger?” Deande asked from over at the Mahjong table where she sat with most of the other Jennerit faction.

            The Aviant was starting to get impatient. “Uh-huh.”

            “The one with the bow and arrows?” Caldarius inquired.

            “Y’all how many people named ‘Thorn’ do we know?”

            “The space elf?” Reyna’s tone was incredulous.

            “Yes!” Benedict slammed his fist down. “Yes! That Thorn! Gah! It’s like pullin’ teeth with you people! Yes, that her!”

            “Okay,” Whiskey Foxtrot said slowly. “But why though?”

            At this question Benedict smiled. “She knocked me on my ass,” he said in a voice filled with awe.

            The other Battleborn exchanged looks. “Explain,” Rath said.

            Benedict was happy to. “We were in the sparring room and I don’t even remember what I said, but the next thing I knew she fucking tackled me! Knocked me square on my ass bone too! Then she sat on me and started punching the shit out of me!” Benedict let out a dreamy sigh. “Amazing!”

            The others slowly turned to look at Ernest and Toby. “It’s an Aviant thing,” Ernest explained. He threw down a chip. “See, it’s a holdover from our early days before our civilization was settled. The best way to guarantee your brood’s survival is to make sure both parents are physically strong enough to protect it.” The pink bird looked at his cards. “That way if something happens to one parent there was always a backup parent who can kick ass if needed.”

            Benedict nodded. “My nestmate Circinae was a scrapper! First time we met, she punched me in the face and called me a bastard and almost clawed out my eye.” He sighed again. “She was amazing.”

            Montana rubbed the back of his neck. “Congratulations?” he offered.

            Reyna whirled around in her seat. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You’re supposed to be watching Orendi!”

            The big guy blushed. “I was, but I really didn’t want to miss Game Night! It’s awesome hanging out with everyone.”

            “Montana?” Reyna slowly put down her cards. “Who exactly is watching Orendi?” she asked in a calm tone even as she clenched her hands into fists.

            Montana didn’t answer right away. That’s how everyone knew it was bad. “ISIC?” he finally replied.

            Reyna sprang from her chair. “Don’t look at my cards!” she snapped before barreling out of the rec room, muttering “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over as she went to find the Chaos Witch and the magnus.

            “Montana, what the hell?” Ghalt glared at his friend.

            The UPR soldier winced. “I really wanted to play,” he whined.

            “You could have picked anyone and I mean _anyone_ and they would have been a better choice than ISIC!”

            Montana folded his arms. He looked like a petulant child. “He was closest,” he grumbled.

            “Can we get back to talking about me?” Benedict snapped.

            “The title of his autobiography,” Toby muttered.

            Unfortunately, Benedict heard that. The Buteonen Aviant turned to glare daggers at the Finisci Aviant. “Toby, don’t make me come over there and stomp a mudhole in your ass then walk it dry!”

            Toby made a face. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

            “Your _face_ doesn’t make any sense!”

            “Stop it, both of you!” Ghalt ordered. He sighed. “Benedict you were telling us about wanting to, um, court Thorn because?”

            “Oh right,” the Aviant sighed. “I don’t know how to start the process. I mean with Circinae it just kind of clicked, but I gotta admit I’m…rusty. I mean, I wanna get this right, ya know?” Benedict frowned at his card. “I was thinkin’ about courtin’ Phoebe since she’s so good with a blade and has rockin’ pair of tits—” Bendict ignored the snickering at his unintentional bird pun. “Just as you know…I don’t wanna say practice, but more to put myself back out there. But as I’m not walkin’ around with a metal dick or in a suit of armor, I’m pretty much not on her radar.”

            At the mahjong table, Caladarius had just placed his tile on the table when he felt the weight of stares. “What?” He looked around. The Kemessian considered what had just been said. “Wait. _Me_?” Caldarius’ filtered voice sounded bewildered. “You’re saying Phoebe—”

            “Wants to ride you like a metal pony?” Mellka supplied. “Yeah.”

            Caldarius seemed amazed by this revelation. “She’s never voiced her interest.” He protested. That got him groans from around the room.

            “Oh my god!”

            “Bro, she totally has!”

            “Does she need to paint you a sign, Caldarius?”

            “Interesting.” The Jennerit lowborn squared his shoulders. “Very interesting.”

            “Not that it makes a difference.” Whiskey Foxtrot said. “Marquis won’t let you anywhere near her.”

            Caldarius seemed to wilt. “And the robot butler gets a say in who Lady Phoebe sleeps with, because?”

            The other Battleborn leveled a look at him.

            “Really?” Caldarius sighed. “Really?”

            “On and off again,” Deande confirmed. “Lady Hemsworth has needs—”

            “And she loves her some robots.” Mellka grinned.

            “Whatever,” Caldarius growled. “If the Lady Hemsworth and Marquis are on the outs again, then I’d like to see that gold-plated scrap heap try to stop me from wooing her.”

            “Bet she makes you keep the armor on.” Rath offered his friend a grin.

            Caldarius chuckled. “I’ve got a hatch.”

            Deande groaned. “File that under things I did not need to know,” she said, making both Caldarius and Rath laugh.

            Oscar Mike looked at Mellka’s cards. He wasn’t playing so she let him. “You think Marquis—”

            “Yes,” Mellka said.

            The clone soldier shook his head. “I was going to ask—”

            Mellka took a drink of her beer. “You were going to ask me if I think that Phoebe’s robot butler has a big ol’ metal wang and I say yes.” She grinned. “The real question is: whose idea was it? Marquis or Phoebe?”

            “My money’s on the robot,” Attikus commented. “He probably had a laugh getting some poor LLC sod to make it for him too.”

            Ghalt groaned. The UPR captain closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Could we please not talk about robot genitalia during game night? Please?”

            There were a few seconds of silence before Mellka asked, “You think it vibrates?”            “Looking for love advice, eh?” Pendles said as soon as he stopped laughing. “Well, Benedict you came to right place.” The Roa took a drink of his beer and then set the glass down. “Y’see—”

            The assassin was cut off by an incessant barking at his feet. He narrowed his eye at Constable Cuddles. “What?”

            “Use a coaster!” Ambra yelled from the Mahjong table.

            “It’s a metal table, Ambra.” Pendles groaned. “It’s not that big a deal.”

            Constable Cuddles snarled and growled at Pendles. With a sigh, the Roa searched for something to set the glass on. “I can’t find a bleedin’ coaster,” he told Ambra.

The Silent Sister looked unimpressed. “Well, I guess you’ll have to hold that glass for the rest of the evening.”

“I am not—”

“Oh yes you will!” Ambra yelled.

Alani stopped reading long enough to glare at the Jennerit sun priestess. She grabbed her glass of soda and chugged it. Placing the empty glass on the floor, she slid her coaster to Pendles. “Thanks, love.” Pendles smiled. “Happy?” He glared down at Constable Cuddles.

The lapdog snorted at him before running back to sit serenely at Ambra’s feet. The Silent Sister cooed down at him. “Such a good boy,” Ambra praised him. “Who’s going to get a treat later?” Constable Cuddles yipped. “That’s right! You are!”

            “Ungrateful shit.” Pendles muttered. “I’m the reason you’re still alive.” Alani gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder while she continued to read. “Anyway, as I was saying. Benedict I am the romance master! How else do you think I managed to woo the beautiful Alani?”

            That got Alani’s attention. “Romance master?” She sputtered with laughter. “Pendles, you asked me if I was bored and wanted to make out.”

            “To be fair…” He grinned and put his head on her shoulder. “You were and we did.”

            Alani groaned and pushed him off. “Benedict, I think that this is great! You and Thorn will be so happy together!”

            “Or kill each other.” Pendles said. “It’s about 50/50.” Alani elbowed him. “Uh, I mean best of luck, mate! I’m sure you’ll sweep her off her feet.”

            “You are the worst.” Alani sighed.

            Pendles sat up and gasped dramatically. “How dare you! What if our children hear you disparaging their dear old dad like that?”

            “Children?” Ghalt arched a brow.

            Alani groaned. “He’s joking. It’s this gag he does. He thinks up these kids then gives these ridiculous names.”

            Pendles grinned. “Ridiculous names, indeed! I’ll suppose you’ll be saying the same about baby Analingus.”

            Rath who had been taking a deep swig of his own drink started laughing so hard that the beer came out of his nose. It sloshed onto the Mahjong tiles. Ambra screeched in horror and disgust. “A-apologies,” Rath managed to say between his choked laughter.

            “That is unbecoming behavior, Verod!” Ambra snarled. She scooped Constable Cuddles up into her arms. “Galilea, I’m going to our room. Make sure you’re back in time to say goodnight to the Constable before I put him to bed.”

            “Yes, Ambra,” Galilea said wearily. She smiled at Cuddles and gave him a scratch under his chin. “Be sweet,” she told the dog. Galilea cleared her throat and looked at Ambra expectantly. The Silent Sister leaned forward and gave Galilea a kiss before she left.

            Benedict was not happy that once again the conversation had moved away from him and he was about to say something when he heard Toby mutter. “I think Miss Thorn could do better.”

            “Excuse me?” He started to rise from his seat. “You wanna repeat that, Tobe?”

            Toby stared down at his flippers. “I said that Miss Thorn could do better! You’re a jerk, Benedict.”

            “And you’re a pain my ass, Toby!” Benedict shot back. The taller Aviant stormed over to the blackjack table where he loomed over the smaller one. “How about I’ll stop being a jerk when you muster up the scrot to do something about it? You talk a good game, but without that damned mech suit you’re useless!”

            Toby leveled a poisonous look at Benedict. Benedict just sneered. “Oh I’m so scared! You ain’t doin’ shit without your Berg so straighten your face before you get hurt.”

            Toby slid off the stool he was using to reach the top of the table and headed for the door. Benedict couldn’t leave well enough alone. “That’s right run away!” he crowed. “Go rant about the ‘mean old Benedict’ on your blog!”

            Benedict plopped down in his seat. He felt the weight of the others’ stares. “What?” he demanded.

            “Uncalled for,” Ghalt shook his head.

            Bendict’s feathers fluffed in agitation. “He started it!” the Aviant protested. “Besides, what’s he going to do? Enough about Toby. I need help with my Thorn situation.”

            “Looks like Toby’s got you covered,” Oscar Mike said.

            “The hell are you talking about?” Benedict looked over at the window.

            Oh.

            Oh no.

            Toby was talking to Thorn, making wide gestures with his flippers. Thorn’s expression was one of disbelief slowly morphing into what looked like horror.

            “Nooooo.” Benedict whispered. “No. No. No.”

            “Maybe he’s talking about something else,” Montana offered.

            Toby turned and pointed directly at Benedict. Thorn stared at him.

            Yep. That was definitely horror on her face.

            “No. No. No. No!”

            The archer jumped up and bolted. Toby waddled up to the rec room window. He waved at Benedict. He said something, but the sound-proofed glass (installed after the Checkers Incident) kept everyone from hearing.

            “What’s he saying?” Attikus asked.

            Mellka narrowed her eyes. “It looks like he’s saying, ‘Suck my…Rick? That can’t be right.”

            The other Battleborn looked at the Aviant who had gone surprisingly quiet. “Benedict?” Montana said. “You, uh, you okay buddy?  
            The Aviant’s face twisted in rage, but it was gone a second later, replaced by a blank expression. “I’m fine.” Benedict said in an almost serene tone. “I’m fine. This is fine. I’m fine. This is. This— _Toby, I’m going to punt a field goal with your runty little body_!”

            Seeing the look on the Buteonen’s face, Toby yelped and took off running as Benedict shoved his chair backwards and shot toward the door. “Don’t run from me, boy!” Benedict screamed.

            “Sorry not sorry!” Toby yelled.

            “How are you so fucking fast with those stubby little legs?”

            “Well,” Pendles said. “That happened.” He leaned over and looked at Benedict’s hand.

            “Whoa, whoa!” Ghalt tried to reach for Benedict’s cards. “What are you doing?”

            “Lookin’ at his cards. Reyna said not to look at hers. Benedict didn’t.”

            “That is…a fair point.” Ghalt conceded. “What’s he got?”

            Pendles whistled. “Royal flush.” He slipped the cards onto the floor and kicked them under the table. “But then that happened.”

            “Yep,” Mellka grinned. “Too bad he left the table.”

            “Such a shame.” Pendles agreed.

            “We should probably stop him from killing that little penguin guy.” Montana pointed out.

            “Toby’ll be fine.” Whiskey said. “He’s really slippery when he needs to be.”

*

The rest of week sucked. Thorn was avoiding him which sucked enough on its own, but Benedict also couldn’t find Toby to exact his vengeance. Turns out when you’re a tiny little so and so, it was easy to hide in places. The Aviant moped in his bunk.

He felt a fat finger poke him in the back between his wings. He swiped at the person behind him. “Go away, Montana,” he said weakly. Benedict was in no mood.

“Hey come on, buddy.” Montana said. “You can’t just keep sulking.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Ghalt wants us on an away mission.”

Benedict sat up with a sigh. “Of course, he does.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slipped off the side. The Aviant stretched. “And who will I be babysittin’ as I’m being badass and amazing?”

Montana grinned. That sounded a bit like the old Benedict. “Let’s see. It’s you, me, Miko, Whiskey Foxtrot, aaaannd Thorn.”

Benedict squawked. He slapped a hand over his beak. “You didn’t hear that.” He said narrowing his eyes at Montana.

Montana grinned. “Course not, buddy.”

“But you’re serious? Thorn’s comin’?”

“Yep.” Montana nodded.

Benedict was beside himself with joy. “I can’t believe it!”

Montana hummed. He didn’t mention that Ghalt hadn’t given the Eldrid a choice. He was tired of her hiding in her quarters and of Benedict moping all the time. “Never thought I’d say it.” Ghalt had told Montana in his office. “But I miss the sound of his annoying voice.”

Benedict practically raced to the briefing area. The others were already waiting. Thorn glanced at him when she saw him enter, but quickly looked away. Benedict felt his mood drop. He gave the archer distance. Ghalt waited for Montana before he began their mission brief. There were Imperium loyal Thralls harassing some civilians on some rock called Jekerias Prime. The UPR was too far out of the way to be of any help, so they relayed Ghalt for assistance. “Intel says they’re taking civilians as prisoners as a labor force. We need to chase them off of the planet.”

“Sounds fun.” Whiskey Foxtrot grinned. He added a few extra strips of duct tape to his gun. “Can’t wait to turns some fools into red mist.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ghalt grinned. He glanced at Benedict and Thorn. “There going to be an issue between you too?”

Benedict resented the implication, but he kept it to himself. “Sir, no sir.” And he gave Ghalt a sarcastic salute.

Thorn ran a finger against her bow’s shaft. “I will do what needs to be done,” she said, still not looking at anyone.

Ghalt didn’t look entirely convinced, but he gave the signal for NOVA to take them to the drop point.

The Thralls were under the leadership of Warlord Ryx, a Jennerit Thrall that had been second-in-command under Warlord Nyx. Benedict wondered if the Thralls were responsible for their naming because if not then that was some coincidental shit. As soon as they touched ground, Thorn was out of the door to look for high ground.

Benedict was really digging this Jekarias Prime place. There were towering fragrant trees and squat purple leaved bushes that smelled like sugar. The air was crisp and unpolluted and the greenish blue water was so clear you could see straight to the bottom.

“This place is gorgeous!” Whiskey Foxtrot whistled. “How come more people don’t know about this place?”

“It does not look too technologically advanced,” Thorn commented over the comms. She stooped down to pick a flower with bright blue petals. “Although they have advanced enough to be able to communicate with the UPR. Perhaps we should discuss this later.”

Benedict took to the sky, gliding over the tree tops before settling down beneath the greenery.

Montana lumbered out of the underbrush with his giant gun followed by Whiskey Foxtrot. “According to our intel,” Ghalt said over their comms, “The Thralls have the civilians holed up in an old court house in the center of town.”

“We got this, Ghalt,” Montana said. “Not our first rescue mention.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful, Montana.”

“Ugh,” Whiskey growled. “All this talking! Let’s go crack some skulls!”

Benedict had to agree with the Rogue. Leave the strategizing to the eggheads, the apex predators would get the deed done. He jumped out of the trees and started running along the paths.

The town was pretty empty. The citizens that the Thralls hadn’t captured were in hiding. Primal Thralls patrolled the cobbled streets alongside minion bots. Benedict spotted some Deadeye snipers hiding along the rooftops. It seemed easy enough, but the Aviant knew that the toughest of the bunch would be where the hostages were held.

“Hey, Benedict!” Montana’s voice rang over his comms. “Benedict!”

If Benedict had teeth they’d be clenched in irritation. “What?” he demanded.

“How you holdin’ up, buddy?”

Was he serious? “I’m…” He sighed. “I’m fine, Montana.”

“Awesome, awesome,” Montana said. He paused for a second before suggesting, “You know, maybe you can go find Thorn and talk to her.”

“Yeah. I’m not doin’ that.”

“Why not?”

“Why? How about the fact that she’s not comfortable around me for starters? I don’t know what Toby said to her, but you saw how she lit out of there.” Benedict shook his head despite Montana not being able to see. “Nah, man. She’s not—she’s not comfortable around me and I’m not going to force the issue. Maybe someday, we can talk but I’m not going to make her uncomfortable.”

“What are you going to do if she’s never comfortable enough to talk to you?” Montana asked.

Benedict didn’t answer right away because he didn’t know. “I don’t know,” the Aviant admitted. “If that’s the case then I guess that’s the way it’ll have to be.” It hurt to say. Saying it was admitting that his chance with Thorn was ruined before it even got out of the door. “My hurt feelings are not more important than her comfort.”

“Wow, Benedict.” Montana whistled. “That’s…really mature.”

“I agree.”

Benedict stopped in his tracks. “Ghalt?”

“Yep,” the UPR Captain answered. “Man, Benedict I don’t know what to say.”

The Aviant stood there, jaw dropped.

What…

“Oh man,” Whiskey Foxtrot piped in. He sounded almost teary. “I totally misjudged you, Birdman.”

What.

Benedict started hyperventilating. His eye twitched as started to fight and lose the battle to keep himself calm. “Uh,” Montana asked from his end. “You guys heard that?”

“Well yeah.” Ghalt chuckled. “You’re on the public line.”

“Motherfucker!” Benedict ripped his comm off and threw on the ground. He stepped on it, crushing it against the cobblestones. Once that was done, he found a fountain to sit on and proceeded to curse everything and everyone. “Oh god,” he moaned. He glanced at the remains of his comm. “That damn thing’s going to come out of my pay. Man, this day could not get any worse.”

Benedict grabbed his launcher and trudged on. This whole mess started because he had to get it in his skull to court Thorn. The Aviant didn’t even know what he saw in the Eldrid, save her badass toughness.

_It’s just a dumb crush_ , Benedict reasoned. _Like when Auggie said he was in “love” with with his babysister Janamia Sinclair. I can get over this._

That made the Aviant feel better. He could hear a commotion going on around the corner of a building. With a whoop, he launched himself into the air and glided to the fight. “Save some for me, y’all!”

Benedict had seen a lot of things in his life that he considered pretty dang amazing, but it was nothing compared to what he was looking at right then and there.

            He didn’t know how it happened, but an Evolved Thrall had Thorn’s bow Kreshek gripped in his three-fingered hand. In retaliation, Thorn had climbed on the Thrall’s back, had her arm around his throat choking him while she drove an arrow repeatedly into his eye socket.

            As Benedict watched her stab her arrow into the Thrall’s eye while screaming obscenities in both Aelfrin and Galactic Standard, he realized his original hypothesis was full of shit and that he was into Thorn even more now.

            _I’m in trouble,_ The Aviant mused with a smile.

            A primal Thrall clamored toward the wobbling Evolved Thrall who was finally succumbing to his wound. Benedict aimed his launcher and fired. The rocket turned the Thrall into fine mist. Thorn looked up, startled by the sound of the explosion. “The lady’s dance card is full, bud,” the Aviant quipped. “Wait your turn.”

            Benedict noticed that Thorn was still watching him. He gave her a nod before moving on. She looked like she had her situation under control. No reason for him to stick around when there were hostages to be saved. Besides, she was still put off by his presence.

*

Trevor Ghalt welcomed the group back with a smile as they boarded NOVA. Or at least he planned to if not for the fact that they came barreling up the ramp with almost identical looks of panic. “What’s wrong?” Ghalt asked. “I thought you won.”

            “Oh we did.” Whiskey said after he stopped to catch his breath. “Totally, ugh, kicked ass”

            Ghalt arched a brow. “So what’s got y’all so bent outta shape?”

            They didn’t answer right away. “Captain,” Whiskey Foxtrot said. “What do you know about the Jekerians?”

            The former UPR captain frowned. “Truthfully not much. Saw their distress vid. They’re like these little guys with purple fur, right?” he chuckled. “They were pretty adorable.”

            “Yeah _super_ adorable,” Benedict said sarcastically. “Right up until they started eating people!”

            Ghalt honestly had no response for that. “I’m sorry?”

            Montana plopped down on the floor. He leaned his back against the wall. “They eat their dead,” he explained. “They, uh, also eat anyone else’s dead too.”

            “Tore into a Thrall corpse like a buncha furry piranhas,” Benedict agreed.

            “Whoa!” ISIC stomped forward. “These sound like people I want to party with!”

            “ISIC, no.” Ghalt sighed.

            “ISIC, yes!” the Magnus countered.

            “Not even the worst part,” Whiskey Foxtrot cut in. “No, that was seeing the one in charge, what did they call him?”

            “Magistrate C’hiru.” Miko offered.

            “Yeah! That. So, Magistrate C’hiru takes hold of this Thrall’s head and opens his mouth and I swear to god, this beak thing—ˮ

            “Proboscis,” Thorn interjected. The Eldrid looked a little green. “Like giant mosquito.”

            The clone nodded. “Exactly! So, the Magistrate takes the proboscis and just fucking sticks it through the Thrall’s skull.”

            Ghalt wasn’t liking where this was going. “It was dead?”

            “It was dying,” Thorn corrected.

            “It was dead after that,” Whiskey Foxtrot said. He turned to Oscar Mike who was listening to his story, enraptured. “He sticks the proboscis thing into the Thrall’s skull and starts sucking out the brain.”

            “Sick!” Oscar Mike said with no small amount of glee.

            Whiskey Foxtrot grinned. “I know, right? It sounded so bad! Kinda like—ˮ

            “Please!” Thorn held up a hand. She had her eyes squeezed shut. “Please do not make the noise.”

            “Thorn, you don’t look so good.” Montana said from his seat on the floor.

            “Watching the Jekerians eat has made me…nauseous,” the Aelfrin admitted. “I will retire to my room.” Thorn walked off.

            The second she was gone, Whiskey Foxtrot made a prolonged wet, slurping noise. “I mean it’s kind of hard to imitate, but that was pretty close.” The clone soldier grinned.

Ghalt had seen some shit in his life, but even he was grossed out. “The cute little furry people?” he said weakly.

            “Flesh-eating monsters,” Benedict said. The Aviant wanted to go to his quarters and take a shower. “You know the only reason they called for help was because they were hoping for a bigger body count? Hell, they wanted to buy Montana!”

            “Say what?” Montana jolted in surprise. “Why?” This was his first time hearing about this.

            Whiskey Foxtrot shrugged. “Look at the size of you, man. They would’ve had food for months!”

            “Actually given how they went at Warlord Ryx, I think Montana would have lasted a few weeks,” Benedict mused. “A few weeks _at most_.”

            Montana looked distressed. “I can’t believe they wanted to eat me,” he muttered.

            Oscar Mike clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, bro. I’m sure you’re delicious.”

            “Aww, thanks. You really think so?”

            “NOVA,” Ghalt called. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

*

            After the Jekerias Prime mission the Battleborn had a little down time. Maybe the Thralls were a little hesitant to go near planets that might have potential flesh eaters on them. Whatever the reason for the quiet, the Battleborn were grateful for a break. The Rogues were supposed to be gone a few days ago, but Valkyrie decided to extend their time on NOVA. She said that there was some sort of atmospheric turbulence happening in the Detritus Ring.

            Kleese said that didn’t make any sense.

            Reyna told him to shut his wrinkled noise hole then she went to go get ready for the dinner date that she and Ghalt had on Chez Nebula, a five-star restaurant ship owned by the LLC.

            Benedict used that extra time to go penguin hunting. So far, he hadn’t had any luck. Toby was an expert at keeping out of sight. The Aviant had taken to camping in front of the storage unit where Toby kept Berg while he wasn’t on missions.

No luck.

Toby obviously knew that was the first place Benedict would look.

Benedict took a seat on a bench near the hallway leading to storage, taking a breather from his flightless bird search.

He would later deny the shriek that he emitted when Thorn dropped from a vent and landed in front of him.

Benedict cleared his throat and put on what he hoped was his most charming smile. “Hey, girl,” he said. “How you livin’?”

Thorn arched a brow and Benedict mentally cursed himself. “Hello, Benedict,” ehe Eldrid said and took a seat beside him. “We need to talk.”

“Funny. You wanna talk now?” he didn’t mean to sound bitter, but he couldn’t help it. She’d been avoiding him like the plague. Thorn stared at him. “What?” he said. “I got something on my face?” She looked away.

“I need to know what you are planning.” Thorn sighed.  “I did not mean to give you cold shoulder, but you must understand that what Toby told me was…upsetting.”

Benedict could feel his blood boil, but he decided to play it cool. “And, uh, what pray tell did ol’ Tobester say that I said?”

The archer finally looked at him. “Toby said that you plan to engage in a marriage pact with me.”

_He._

_Said._

_What?!_

_No court would convict me!_ “Thorn, that ain’t—I swear, that’s not true.” Benedict ran a hand over his head and flattened his crest. “That’s not even a little bit true.”

Thorn seemed relieved. She visibly relaxed. Still she said, “He also said that you would not give me a choice.”

Benedict gave a forced laugh. “Oh that Toby! He’s such a kidder. Makes you just wanna, _urgh_ , wrap your hands around his little neck. So cute, right?”

Thorn looked confused, but she shrugged. “So…”

“No marriage pact,” Benedict told her. “I swear. I just wanna court you. Y’know? Dating.”

The Aelfrin blinked. “That is all?”

Benedict nodded.

“And this,” Again she looked uncertain, “This is not a prank or a joke?”

The Aviant looked crushed. “No, it’s not. I wouldn’t joke about that.”

“But why me?”

Benedict shrugged. “You’re tough and scrappy,” he said. “I mean, yeah, we don’t have a lot in common. I mean you don’t have feathers or look even remotely like an Aviant, but somehow all your weirdness makes you that much more attractive.”

“Your sweet talk needs work.”

Benedict laughed at that. “You’re right. I’m a little rusty. Doesn’t mean I want to court you any less.”

Thorn looked at him. Really looked at him. “Very well,” she smiled. “I will give you a chance.”

Benedict almost jumped up and whooped. “Get out! For real?”

She nodded. “Is there anything I should know?” Thorn asked. “About the courtship?”

Ah, the technical stuff. “Well, it’s a three part sorta deal. I can write some stuff out for you. Uh, I should probably let you know that I’ll have to do this publically.”

“Publically?”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah, there has to be witnesses. Apparently, way back when some asshat did something that ruined it for everybody else.” The Aviant sighed. “Now I need at least two other people to see whether or not you accept.”

Thorn smiled. “That seems wise.” She crossed her legs. “Very well, I will go through with the courtship, but I want you to do something for me first.”

“Anything!”

Thorn got to her feet. “You will ask Boldur’s blessing.”

Benedict tilted his head and stared at her curiously. “Huh.”

“What?”

“It’s just…that seems really old-fashioned. No offense.”

Thorn laughed. “It is not like that. Boldur likes to be a part of my life. He likes to know of things.”

“What if he says no?”

“He will not. In fact, I guarantee you asking him for permission will put him in good mood. Besides,” Thorn gave a careless shrug. “Even if he did, that doesn’t mean it would discourage me from dating you. I am my own person.”

Benedict smiled. He held out a taloned hand for Thorn to shake. “I accept your terms. I’ll go see if I can track down Boldur.”

Finding Boldur wasn’t difficult. Benedict found him in the area of NOVA that Reyna had commandeered and turned into what was “definitely not a bar, Ghalt”. The dwarf was over in the corner, on what had to be his seventh beer. Benedict greeted the woodsworn warrior then got straight to the point.

It turned out Thorn was right. Oh sure, Boldur made a big show out of looking Benedict up and down, but at the end he pulled the Aviaint into a bone-crushing hug and gave him his blessing. Benedict swore he saw extra pep in Boldur’s step when the Ekkuni warrior went to grab another round of drinks.

*

The first stage of Benedict’s courtship ritual started three days later in the mess hall. Oscar Mike elbowed Ernest as Benedict walked in carrying something in both arms, a serious expression on his face. The others quieted as the Aviant strode over to where Thorn was sitting. He took a seat across from her, keeping the bowl in front of him. The pink Aviant grunted. “Looks like Phase 1.”

“Which is?” Reyna asked before taking a bite of her wrap.

“Benedict has to prove he’s a good provider,” Ernest said. “Used to be that would involve hunting, but nowadays you just present your intended with their favorite food. If she accepts his gift, he moves on to Phase 2. If she doesn’t he either gives up or tries a different kind of food until he gets it right.”

Thorn looked the giant metal bowl covered with a red checkered cloth was plopped down on the table across from her. She looked at it then at Benedict. “And this is?”

The Aviant looked pleased with himself—more so than usual. With dramatic snap of his wrist he whipped the cloth off of the bowl revealing—

Thorn’s eyes widened and she started salivating. “Ekkuni Sugar Petals,” she whispered. “How did—ˮ

“Boldur. He seems really invested in my success.” Benedict scratched his neck. “He, uh, thinks we’re going to give him winged grandkids or something.”

Thorn closed her eyes. “Apologies. Boldur can be…frustrating at times.” She looked at the bowl again. “This is part of courtship?”

“Yep.” He slid the bowl to her. “You can either eat one as a show of acceptance or ignore it.”

Thorn looked down at the Sugar Petals. They were from an edible flower found only in certain parts of Ekkunar. The petals were plucked, soaked in honey and lemon juice until they reached a candied state then sprinkled with sugar. They were Thorn’s favorite treat as a child. She glanced at Benedict who was trying not to look nervous and failing. She picked up one of the petals and popped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed, lost in memories and the pleasantness of the taste. Thorn reopened her eyes and grabbed a handful this time.

Benedict watched her eat. “What do those taste like?” he asked, reaching across the table/

The sound of Thorn smacking his hand could be heard throughout the lunchroom.

Benedict yanked his hand back and held it against his chest. “Goddamn, woman!” He said in great amusement. When he saw how pink Thorn’s face was growing, the Aviant started laughing harder. “I guess someone doesn’t like to share.”

Thorn’s face reddened. “I can share,” she muttered.

“Really?” Benedict teased. “Cuz my hand says differently.”

“You can have some,” the Aelfrin said.

“Cool.” Benedict propped his chin his hand. “Slide the bowl back over and I’ll take one.”

“I will.” The bowl remained in place.

            Benedict chuckled. “You seem to be havin’ some trouble.” He stood up and leaned over the table so he could take a petal. Thorn looked like she had to stop herself from smacking his hand again. The Aviant popped the petal into his mouth. He winced. “Holy shit! That is _sweet_! If I had teeth they’d probably fall out.”

            Thorn shrugged and continued to snack. “More for me.” She didn’t seem particularly broken up about it.

*

            Benedict paced to and fro, stopping every two minutes or so to check the time. Pendles was supposed to meet him, but so far the Rogue hadn’t shown. “Fuck,” the UPR soldier grumbled. “What’s taking so long?” He sat down in a chair and wondered what he was going to do if the assassin didn’t appear.

            Benedict suddenly became aware of someone or something breathing on his neck.

            “Boo,” a voice whispered.

            The Aviant shot out of his seat, feathers ruffled, and squawking at the top of his lungs. “Dude! What the hell?!”

            Pendles doubled over cackling, his sides aching with laughter. “You should have seen your face!” he howled. “Oh, that was too good.”

            Benedict scowled. Fucking Rogues. Still, he had to play nice. “I need your help.”

            “I figured,” the Roa said. He dropped into a seat and started to twirl one of his kama. To Benedict’s chagrin it was one he had fashioned from the skull of his old commander. Pendles noticed his discomfort and smiled. “My first kill,” the assassin said fondly. “You never did buy me a drink.”

            Benedict swallowed. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “I suppose I didn’t. But hopefully this’ll put us even.” The Aviant sat down. “I need you to see if someone has a contract out on a Jennerit by the name of Janedra Vivani.”

            “Why?”

            “I wanna kill her,” Benedict said. Pendles looked as if he wanted more info, so the Aviant continued. “She’s an art collector—problem is what she collects is stolen art from Aelfrin families that the Jennerit displaced.”

            “No,” Pendles frowned. “When I said ‘why’ I meant it as why should I help you? Firstly, you’re an asshole on your best of days. Secondly, you’re a dick to my mate, Toby—ˮ

            “Toby’s just as much as a dick to me as I am to him!” Benedict protested.

            “Fair point. Still, I’m a Rogue.” The Roa shrugged.

            “C’mon, man! I need this for courtin’ Thorn!”

            “Yeah, I figured. Still doesn’t answer my question.” Pendles folded his arms. “Why should I help you?”

            Benedict sighed. “I’ll let you keep the reward.” Now, he had Scales’ attention. Good. “And you won’t have to do anything. Just find someone who wants to pay to have her killed. Oh, and give me a ride to her location with that stolen UPR skimmer that you never returned.”

            “I neither confirm nor deny that I still have the skimmer,” Pendles said primly. He considered the offer. “I’ll do it, but—ˮ he continued before Benedict could get too excited. “You have to apologize to Toby.”

            “Pendles, I respect you too much to lie to you,” Benedict said. “I ain’t apologizin’ to Toby. If anything he should be apologizin’ to me for almost ruining my chances with Thorn.”

            “Fine. You don’t have to apologize, but I want you to be civil with Toby for three months.”

            “A month,” Benedict countered. “And he’s gotta be civil with me too.”

            “Deal.” Pendles sighed. He gave the both of them a week at the most. Still, getting credits without having to do any of the work was too good to pass up. “I’ll ask around. I’ll get back to you at the end of the day.”

*

            The assassin was true to his word. “Their names are Ferinnie and Vinniae Reshlamorn.” Pendles scrolled down his datapad. “Let’s see…Ah! Looks like their mum was an Aelfrin weaver. In her usual style, Janedra killed their mum, stole all of the completed rugs, tapestries, and the like then buggered off. Ferinnie and Vinniae are offering 800,000 credits if we—and by that I mean _you_ —kill her. Double if we bring back a location of all of the stolen art.”

            Benedict nodded. “Doesn’t sound like a problem. When you wanna head out?”

            Pendles shrugged. “Got no problem leavin’ now. But I wanna tell Lani where I’m goin’ so she doesn’t worry. C’mon. It won’t take a second.”

            Benedict silently groaned, but followed the Rogue. He couldn’t complain especially given how much help the Roa was giving him. He and Pendles entered Alani’s quarters.

            Alani was asleep at the bottom of her tank. She was curled up on her stomach, head pillowed by her arms. Her dark green hair resembled seaweed as it floated free from her usual braid. Pendles gave the glass of her tank a gentle tap with his cybernetic hand. “Lani? Alani!” He moved over to the tank’s ladder and started to climb.

            Alani roused from her sleep. She sat up and stretched.

            Good, lord! The girl was naked as a newly hatched chick!

            Benedict whirled around so that his back was to the Akopoan’s tank. “What’s he doing?” he heard Alani ask.

            “My guess,” he heard Pendles respond, “Is that he’s acting weird because you’re naked.”

            Benedict heard a splash as the Akopoan breached the water. “But this how I always sleep.” Alani sounded perplexed.

            “Yeah, well. You know how landwalkers are with nudity. You just gotta roll with it.”

            Benedict’s feathers ruffled at the thought of being called a landwalker. He was a high-flying bird of prey! He kept his thoughts to himself since he still needed the Rogue’s help.

            “So I’m going to be helping Benedict with his courtship thingy,” Pendles told Alani.

            “Oh my gosh, Pendles! That’s so sweet!”

            “Yep, he comes to me practically on bended knee and asks for my expertise and who am I to deny him? After all, if he did it by himself he’d fail miserably; I’m just helping him out of the goodness of my heart.”

            Well, that was a severely edited version of the tale. Benedict let that slide too. After a minute he noticed that the pair had gone silent. _What the hell are they—oh._   They were kissing. That answered that question. Benedict turned back and headed for the door suddenly uncomfortable with intruding on their private time. “I’ll wait outside.”

            “Don’t let me stop you.” Pendles replied earning him a quiet rebuke from his girlfriend. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too much longer.

            Pendles came out a few seconds later, readjusting his hoodie. “Alright, we can go now,” he said.

            “Ya sure?” Benedict snorted. “Don’t wanna squeeze in one last makeout session before we leave?”

            “Nope. I’m good.”

*

“So, Pendles.” Benedict looked over at the Roa who was typing in coordinates. “Don’t take this wrong, I’m just curious is all, but how do you and Alani—” It was the subject of curiosity among many of Battleborn. Pendles’ head was considerably larger than Alani’s so things like kissing must take some maneuvering.

            The assassin’s cybernetic hand froze over a control. He fixed his golden yellow eye into baleful stare on the Aviant.

            “Deckhart.” Pendles growled once before returning his attention to the navigation.

            Benedict’s blood ran cold. “Deckhart” was both a warning and an example of what happened when someone asked the wrong questions.

            Benedict hadn’t been there when it happened, but he heard.

            The UPR liked to pretend on their best days that Ghalt and his crew didn’t exist, despite the fact that they were the ones responsible for saving Solus on a daily basis. Sometimes, the bigwigs decide to descend from on high and grace the Battleborn with their presence. Liked reminding them that it’s because of their generosity that they weren’t all sitting in cells for treason. That’s where Deckhart came in. Private Tristan Deckhart was acting as an escort to Brigadier Corporal Anna Miyumi. While Ghalt and Miyumi talked in his office, Deckhart made himself comfortable. The UPR soldier was big, but he wasn’t Aplia big. He strolled through NOVA like he owned her and sneered at anyone who dared to make eye contact.

            Dude, was a tool.

            Unfortunately, this tool set his sights on Alani. He cornered the sweet-tempered Eldrid in the rec room. “Evenin’ ma’am. How’d a pretty little thing like you end up in a shithole like this?”

            “I can hear you,” NOVA muttered. The Magnus seemed quite offended by Deckhart’s description of her.

            Alani laughed nervously. She angled her body away from Deckhart and tried to slide away. “I have to go.”

Deckhart wasn’t having any of that. He clamped a meaty hand down on Alani’s arm. “Baby, don’t play hard to get. I know you’re thirstin’ for a real man after being on this ship of chumps for so long.”

            “Yeah. Easy, there. I got a boyfriend already so thanks but no thanks.”

            Deckhart wriggled his brows. “What he don’t know ain’t gotta hurt him.” He slid his other hand down Alani’s back and grabbed a handful of her ass. He leered at her as squeezed.

            In Alani’s defense, she’d given him a chance. She wrapped Deckhart’s head in a water geyser and used it to slam him into ceiling then bodyslam him to the floor. The water monk kicked the UPR soldier in the side of the face. “Keep your gross hands to yourself!”  Alani snarled. Her syl glowed menacingly.

            Deckhart spat a bloody loogie onto the floor. “Whatever. Frigid, bitch. I heard you’re fucking some Rogue asshole anyway. Who knows what you got from that thing. Hey, princess? Hey! I’m talking to you. What’s his dick like? You can tell me.”

It was then that Pendles uncloaked. The assassin had missed the first half of the altercation. All he knew was that Alani was upset and this twat was yelling abuse at her.

That’s all he needed to know.

            The Rogue took his kama, the one made from the skull of Benedict’s old CO and shoved it up Deckhart’s—

            Well, Benedict still had a hard time processing _that_ part, despite Oscar Mike’s many gleeful recollections.

            Deckhart had been escorted to the medbay, Pendles had been escorted to the brig but not before yelling that he wanted his kama cleaned and returned thank you very much. Brigadier Corporal Miyumi had been less than impressed. She scolded Ghalt for his allowing of rabble like the Rogues onto his ship. She seemed to disregard the testimony from the other Battleborn concerning Deckhart’s sexual harassment and otherwise asshole-ish-ness. Miyumi and a diaper-clad Deckhart had taken their leave and the Battleborn were back on the UPR’s shit list for two months after that.

“Right.” Benedict cleared his throat. “I was just askin’,” he muttered. “No need to get hostile.”

“How are you and Thorn going to fuck?”

Benedict’s feathers floofed. “That’s none of your damn business, Scales!” he snapped.

Pendles gave curt nod. “And my love life is none of yours. Alani and I are happy with the physical aspect of our relationship. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

            Benedict settled into his seat. He smoothed down his feathers. “Fair enough, I guess.” He muttered. “How long before we get to Janedra’s?”

            “We should be there in a little bit under an hour. Just settle back and think about how you’re going to do this.”

            “That’s easy.” Benedict preened. “I figure one blast from my trusty rocket launcher—”

            “And destroy the body along with any physical proof that you killed her?” Pendles sighed. He swiveled his seat and looked at the Aviant. “The rocket launcher is a no-go.”

            Benedict opened his beak then closed it. He opened it and just let it hang open. “I can’t…use my rocket launcher?” The idea had never even occurred to him. “Why don’t you tell me to stop breathin’ while I’m at it!”

            “Stop being so fuckin’ dramatic, Benedict. You got those claws, use ’em.”

            “What if I use a small rocket?”

            “No.”

            Benedict cursed a blue streak a mile long, but Pendles remained firmed. The Aviant could grudgingly see where the assassin was coming from, hard to claim a rocket kill as the work of Executive Executions when Pendles was known for his blades. Benedict sulked in his seat. “You ever going to give back to this skimmer.”

            Pendles let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Absolutely not,” he chortled.

*

            Janedra Vivani’s palatial mansion was located on a mountain villa on the mercantile planet of Plius Kiln. The planet was one non-stop shopping area, traders coming from all over to hawk their wares, entertainment, and food. The wealthy homeowners resided in mountainside villas and estates far enough from the hustle to get a good night’s sleep, but still within traveling distance if they got bored. Plius Kiln was the planet one retired to if you had loads of money and free time to spend it.

            “This place is ah-mazing!” Benedict eyed a vendor selling some shiny missiles. “Would you look at that! Man, I thought they stopped making those.”

            “Focus, Benedict,” Pendles muttered. “We got things to do. Besides this place ain’t that hot. Not with 50 credit parking.” It was lucky enough for them that Plius Kiln was so open-world that no one spared them a second glance. If they showed no interest in buying then they might as well be invisible as far as the vendors were concerned.

            “Note to self,” Benedict grinned. “Self, come back to Plius Kiln when this shit is over because they got some of the good stuff!”

            “Feh,” Pendles sniffed. “You want some good off the market stuff with no way to trace it, then you should hit up the Detritus Ring on the last Friday of the month. Lot of people wanting to get rid of their surplus and make room for new inventory.”

            “How much of that surplus is legal?”

            “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies, Benedict.”

            Janedra Vivani’s mansion stood behind a gate so golden it would’ve made Marquis weep with joy. She didn’t have much in the way of security. A thumper turret or two which were easily destroyed.

            “Is it weird that I’m on edge because of how easy this?” Benedict muttered. He was using his claws to jimmy open a lock. “Cuz this has been a little easy.”

            “Jennerit are known for being a little arrogant.” Pendles pointed out. “She probably doesn’t consider her enemies enough trouble to warrant extra muscle or fire power.”

            “If you say so.” Something just seemed off about the whole thing. “What’s she look like?”

            “What?”

            “Janedra Vivani,” Benedict clarified. “What’s she look like?”

            “I, ah, don’t know.” Pendles admitted. “They didn’t include a picture.”

            “How could they not include a picture? What if we kill the wrong person?!”

            Pendles huffed. “From what I know, Janedra doesn’t get any visitors and she doesn’t go out that much.” He shrugged. “Safe to assume that if we come across a Jennerit woman it’s her.”

            Benedict didn’t know how he felt about that.

            Their footsteps echoed on Janedra’s polished wooden floor. They hadn’t been met by a guard or any resistance yet. Benedict’s hand twitched by his side. He missed the reassuring weight of his rocket launcher which he had to leave back on the skimmer.

            Pendles held up his hand. The Roan titled his head to the side, listening for something. He motioned for Benedict to follow him with two of his fingers. Pendles crept forward and turned a corner. The more they moved, the more Benedict became aware of a strange clicking sound. They walked until they reached what looked like a giant den. The clicking was a noisy staccato as they entered the room but it stopped the second they stepped in. “Oh dear,” a thin, female voice wheezed. “Home invaders. Oh me. Oh my.” From behind what appeared to be a mountain of cushions, a woman in a high back hoverchair floated toward them. She was a Jennerit but she was—

            “Old…” Benedict whispered. Verod Rath appeared to be the eldest Jennerit in appearance on the Battleborn, but even he appeared to be in his late 30s. This Jennerit was the first Jennerit that they’d come across that looked elderly.

            Janedra Vivani’s grey hair was pulled tight into a high bun, her thin face was lined with the crevasses of age, and one of her red eyes had a milky cataract. “Home invaders,” she whispered. “As I live and breathe.” She had thin white fingers tipped with crimson red nails sharpened to tips.

            “Evenin’ Miss.” Pendles used his kama to pantomime tipping a hat. “Name’s Pendakka Lakonna, sole proprietor and star assassin of Executive Executions. Congratulations! You’ve been selected for a murderin’! Unfortunately, I’ve promised the honor of turning you into a corpse to this fella here. Say hello, Benedict.”

            “Um, hi?” the Aviant gave a half-hearted wave.

            Janedra Vivani didn’t seem troubled by any of this. If anything she looked sort of happy. Like a grandma who was getting a visit after such a long time. She edged off the hover chair and stood. Her bones creaked and popped audibly as she stretched. “So happy to see some home invaders with balls.” She smacked her lips. “Last ones barely put up a fight.” Janedra threw off the shawl she wrapped around her shoulders and stood straight.

            Both Benedict and Pendles took a step backward.

            Janedra was huge. Not in the sense that she was tall—she was, well over seven two easily—she was also built like a tank. Whatever intel Pendles had on the Jennerit woman had failed to mention the fact she looked like she could do arm curls with minion robots without breaking a sweat.

            “Um,” Pendles offered.

            “Yeeaah,” Benedict swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’m pretty sure her abs have abs.”

            Janedra flexed and stretched. Then dropped to a squat to stretch her hamstrings. “Going to make your faces look like your ass.” Janedra smacked a meaty fist into the palm of her hand and popped her knuckles. She started stomping towards them. “And your asses look like your face.”

            Pendles cleared his throat. “Well, Benedict—”

            The Aviant’s head whipped in the Roan’s direction. “Oh, you motherfucker.”

            “You appear to have this well in hand.”

            “Don’t you fucking dare!”

            “So, I’m just going to leave you to it. Best of luck! Ta!” Pendles threw down a smoke bomb.

            “Pendles, you scaly Rogue fucker!” Benedict screamed. He waved a hand trying to dispel the acrid smoke.

Janedra grabbed him by the arm and lifted him into the air. She smiled at Benedict. “Madam,” Benedict croaked. “I respectfully ask you to avoid my face and wings. They are quite literally my favorite features.”

            “I promise to try,” The Jennerit said before she flung Benedict across the room.

*

            Pendles felt a little guilty leaving Benedict like that, but they (meaning Pendles) wouldn’t get the full payment if the stolen art wasn’t located as well. The Rogue trotted down the hallways, keeping an eye out for anything that looked like it could be hiding something valuable. The Roan passed a very impressive kitchen with an entire wall that was nothing but wine bottles. Pendles made a note of it and kept moving. He stopped when he came to a giant metal door with a keypad on the side. It had to be where Janedra was keeping her stolen art. The trouble would be breaking into this very well-made vault. Pendles placed a hand on the door’s handle as he eyed the keypad. There had to be hundreds of codes to try. The most obvious one would be Janedra’s—

            Pendles glanced at the handle where he lightly rested his hand. He frowned. “Oh you have got to be kidding me!” The damned door was not only unlocked, it wasn’t even closed completely! “What kinda shoddy security does this woman have here?! It’s like she _wants_ people to show up.” The Rogue frowned. Considering how happy she was to see them, it was entirely likely that Janedra wanted people to make an attempt at robbing her just so she could beat the ever living snot out of them.  Pendles poked his head into door. Well, he found the stolen Aelfrin artwork. He slapped a homing beacon onto the wall and sent Ferrinae and Vinninae the information. When that was done, Pendles decided it was best to head back and check on Benedict.

On the way back, he paused for a second in front of a large glass trophy case. Inside were many golden statues and framed holo-pictures of a young Janedra Vivani flexing, holding the broken body of an opponent and shaking the hand of Lothar Rendain. Pendles scanned the trophies. “ _Gladiator of the Year: Cage Fighting Edition_. _Most Spines Broken_. _Most Opponents Brutalized_.” Pendles grimaced. “Oh, wow I did not get thorough intel on this job. I think I should go check on Benedict. I’m sure he’s fine but…” Pendles broke off in a run.

*

Benedict was not fine. He was three bus routes and a scenic ride from “fine”.

Today Benedict became intimately familiar with the verb form of the word “rag doll”. Janedra currently had him pinned to the floor and was completely disregarding his earlier request to leave his face alone.

“Nasty home invader!” Janedra snarled as she straddled the Aviant and pummeled him. “I will punish you! Turn your bones into my new knitting needles! Use them to make a lovely and tasteful shawl for the winter months!”

Pendles uncloaked behind her and raked the points of his kama across Janedra’s eyes. Blinded, the retired gladiator shrieked and fell back enough for Benedict to kick his way free. Janedra grabbed at them with her bloody hands, trying to feel them out. Benedict stumbled out of the way and grabbed a shard of glass from what used to be a very stylish coffee table until Janedra had grabbed him in a choke hold and bodyslammed him through it. The Aviant hobbled over to Janedra and sank the shard into the side of her neck then jerked his arm, slicing a red arc through her throat. Janedra Viviani clutched at her throat trying to stem the blood flow but it was no use. She still had some fight in her so Pendles envenomated his blades and injected her with poison. The retired gladiator slumped over onto her side.

“Not bad,” Pendles remarked. He took his converted ice blade and used it to messily separate Janedra’s head from her body.

Benedict angled his face so that he could glare at Pendles with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Pendles chuckled. “I know it was sort of a dick move to leave you like that, but I had to find out where the artwork was, remember? And I found it. So mission complete.” He slid Janedra’s head into a plastic lined black bag. “Come on. Job took less time than I thought it would. Let’s explore.”

Benedict was pretty sure all his ribs were broken and that he was bleeding internally so he really didn’t feel up to exploring anything. Pendles grabbed him by the arm that he wasn’t cradling against his chest and started dragging him

*

            Benedict and Pendles returned to NOVA with five cases of wine, four cases of expensive whiskeys, brandies, and other liquors, and about several cases of dried foods, meats, and canned goods that would have gone to waste now that Janedra was dead. The ride back to NOVA was a cramped one.

            They also found a foot locker containing 200,000 unmarked and untraceable credits—but, neither felt that there was a need to tell Ghalt about that.

            Ghalt eyed a bottle of wine. “You know we can’t make a habit of this.” He told Pendles. Whiskey Foxtrot and Montana were hauling the food to the kitchen. “The UPR barely tolerates us, if they find out we’re looting dead people’s houses...”

            “She was a fuckin’ murderer!” Pendles protested.  “She stole art and murdered people! Besides, I was there on official Executive Execution business. And it was just a one time thing. She had all this food and it was just going to spoil. Besides, it’s not like the UPR is really all that great about sending us supplies.”

            Ghalt grunted in agreement. The UPR occasionally sent them supplies in the off-the-books capacity. The supplies weren’t always the best, but what little bit they sent helped. Pendles tossed Ghalt another bottle of wine. “Everyone deserves a treat.” The Roan said. He used his tentacle to slide a bottle of whisky under his seat without Ghalt noticing. “We work hard.”

            The Captain chuckled. “That we do. Alright, Pendles. I’ll turn a blind eye to this for now. And I’ll ignore the fact that you still have the skimmer.”

            “That’s mighty kind of you, Captain Ghalt.” The Roan grinned. He hid the bottle of whiskey behind his back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to go find Alani.”

*

Benedict lay in his bunk with his eyes closed being gently lulled to sleep by the quiet hum of a medical drone. He didn’t even open his eyes when he heard the doors of his quarters swish open. The Aviant cracked an eye with a sigh when he felt the bed dip with added weight. An arm circled his middle and he felt someone press against his back. “I would’ve preferred you not see me like this.”

            “Tough,” Thorn replied. She nestled closer to him. “Ernest told me that this part of courtship is supposed to be metaphorical. You are not supposed to literally go out and kill my enemies.”

            Benedict chuckled. “Well, you know me. Go big or go home.”

            Thorn snorted. “Why are you not in medbay?”

            “Beatrix still gives me the creeps. She just looks so damned happy when someone comes in injured. Just doesn’t sit right.”

            The Aelfrin ranger didn’t disagree. “I could go get Miko. They would heal you faster than that machine.”

            “The drone’s fine.” Benedict protested. “I mean look at my face. The swelling’s gone down and everything.”

            Thorn harrumphed, but said nothing else. They lay there in silence. Benedict eventually moved so that he could lie on the side facing Thorn. He pulled her into his arms and let his head rest on her hair. He really liked the way she smelled. Somehow she smelled like gunpowder and smoke even though he knew Thorn had never held a gun before.

            “Why are you sniffing me?”

            “You smell nice,” Benedict muttered. He closed his eyes.

            Thorn gave a huff of laughter. “You are strange,” she said softly, without malice. “Skip the next part of courtship. I will say yes.”

            “Next part’s just a gift exchange,” Benedict told her. “Usually something that’s special to me is given to you.”

            “What were you planning on giving me?”

            “A couple of the feathers off of my wings.” Benedict felt Thorn shift and moved back to look at her. She had this look on her face. “What? They’re clean!”

            “That’s not—ˮ Thorn shook her head. “Benedict, that is a part of your body.”

            “It’s not that weird. I lose feathers all the time. They’ll grow back. It would be like you giving me a lock of your hair.”

            Thorn looked slightly appeased by that. She settled back into bed. “I will need to get you something.”

            Benedict rubbed his hand down her back, careful to mind his talons. “If you wanna get me something to decorate my launcher that would be greatly appreciated.”

            “We will see.” Thorn moved her arms so that she reach up and cup the Aviant’s face. “After, gift exchange courtship is over?”

            “Yeah.” Benedict sighed.

            The Aelfrin snorted. Then to Benedict’s surprise she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Thorn immediately swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. “Finish healing, idiot bird,” she told Benedict. “I will see you tomorrow.”

            “Aw that ain’t fair.” Benedict tried to grab her arm so he could haul back down into his bed, but Thorn dodged him effortlessly. “Thorn, come on!”

            “You need to heal.” Thorn said as she headed for the door.

*

_A week later…_

            Benedict eyed the paper. “You’re sure about this?”

            “It is traditional Aelfrin grieving technique.” Thorn grabbed her bow. Benedict’s eyes always lit up at the sight of his feathers tied to the shaft. “Besides, you always have an easier time talking about your feelings when others cannot hear.”

            The Aviant stretched. “That is true,” he admitted. “Still seems kinda wasteful.”

            Thorn waved a hand. “Stop stalling.”

            “Fine. Whatever. I guess I’ll start writing.”

           

_My Dearest Circinae,_

_It has been a while since my last letter. You’ll be pleased to know that I have finally tracked down one of our brood. Auggie’s been placed with a nice family. The UPR decided that it was in his best interest to be placed in a stable home instead of with someone who “goes seeking combat and lives on ship”. I guess that’s their way of saying I’m not a good enough parent because I’m out here fighting the Varelsi. They make it sound like I’d put him in danger on purpose which is a load of bullshit. It hurts. Being away from our boy hurts. Being away from you…_

_Auggie confirmed what I was always afraid of knowing. He told me that you’re gone. I didn’t take the news well. “Intentionally being self-destructive on already dangerous missions” was what Ghalt said before he benched me for my own good. Heh. I’m pretty sure Montana and Oscar Mike thought I was crazy. I tried shoving a rocket down a Thrall’s throat and I may have kept holding on to it until Montana had to wrestle me free. They’ve given me space, but I’m pretty sure one of them keeps shoving cards about grief counseling under my door. I don’t throw them away. I don’t plan on using on ’em but I don’t throw them away._

_Which brings us to this letter. Ghalt says I need to find a way to cope and deal with my grief in a way that doesn’t involve throwing myself head first into dangerous situations. Or drinking. Thorn suggested this. Ah, Circinae you would love Thorn. Okay, so she wouldn’t win any Aviant beauty contests and she’s got these, like, noodle arms—_

“I do not have noodle arms.” Thorn frowned.

            Benedict waved her away. “Girl, don’t read over my shoulder! That’s rude! I need privacy. Shoo! Just shoo, shoo, shoo!”

            Thorn rolled her eyes. “I will be in training room. Come find me when you are finished.”

            “I will. Promise.” Benedict gave her a smile before returning to his letter.

           

_I began courting Thorn weeks ago. It was a little after I found out that you were…gone. I’m going to be honest, it helped distract me. Especially when I had to complete Part Two. Part two was a bitch. Thorn’s pretty incredible. She’s tough and scrappy and this one time we were at a bar a fight broke out and she jumped in even though we didn’t know any of the people involved. She’s pretty awesome. Auggie hasn’t met her yet. I’ve sent him letters and pictures, but no response yet. I should probably write him once all his tests are over. Oh yeah, our boy’s wants to go to medical school. I was a little bummed when he initially told me because I was expecting him to follow in my footsteps, but I gotta admit “Dr. August Benedict Jr.” has a nice ring to it._

_I miss you Ciricinae. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you. I go over and over in my head about what I should have done differently. Like maybe some butterfly effect would have kept you safe. I do that a lot. It’s not even funny. If you were here you’d probably thump me across the head and tell me to stop being so stupid. But you’re not here. That’s the whole problem._

_I really like Thorn, but she’s not you. Hell, you’d probably say “No shit. It’d be creepy if she was” and you’d be right. Thorn’s amazing. She reminds me a little of you at times, but not in a creepy way. Hell, it’s hard to explain. Just trust me when I say that I’m going to be okay. I miss you, Ciricinae and I’ll never stop loving you. But I’m going to be okay._

_Thorn says I gotta burn this letter and that the smoke will bring the message to you. It sounds like a bunch of Eldrid hooey, but a part of me hopes she’s right. I hope you receive this letter. I hope you’re okay. I hope that I find Peck, Wisp, Sarret, and Amandi someday and that I can be a part of their lives. I hope a lot of things, Circinae. I love you. I’ll see you again someday. Promise._

_August Benedict_

           


	3. She Blinded Me with Phasegates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break. Life got in the way.

**She Blinded Me with Phasegates**

**Chapter 3**

Phoebe/Marquis and Phoebe/Caldarius

            Marquis buttoned his overcoat. With a whistle, he tilted his hat so Hoodini could hop inside. The Magnus placed his hat on top of his head. With a tap of his finger, Marquis settled his bowler into its proper place. “ _Wunderbar_ ,” He said after assessment. Turning back toward the bed, he called out. “Lady Phoebe, it’s time to wake up.”

            Phoebe’s tousled blonde hair ducked under the covers. “Five more minutes.”

            “You have a meeting with Roald Kimmel in Acquisitions this morning, an interview with _Engineering Advancements Today_ , and you’re also meant to do a maintenance tour at Hemsworth Arms. Also Baron Hemsworth scheduled breakfast with you.”

            Phoebe threw the blanket off and sat up. She brushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand. “He’s just going to leave me sitting there for an hour then send me a last minute comm saying how _sorry_ he is and how he needs to reschedule.”

            Marquis hummed. It was true that her father wasn’t the best with keeping commitments. “What would you suggest?”

            “I’d rather have breakfast with you in the privacy of our quarters.” Phoebe purred. She gave the spot next to her a pat. “At least in our quarters, we can cuddle without judgement.”

            Marquis grabbed Phoebe by the hand. She squealed as she was hauled from the bed. “Marquis!”

            “As tempting as staying in bed with you all day does sound, you have responsibilities.” Marquis dodged her slaps. “I will order your breakfast and you can eat in here, but I insist that you prepare for the rest of the day, Phoebe.”

            Phoebe pouted. “Ugh, I could think of a hundred things I would rather do than be interviewed by those pigs from _Engineering Advancements Today_. Do you know they barely asked about my accomplishments last time? They wanted to know how I managed to stay so thin and what my skin care regimen is when I’m off fighting the Varelsi! What does that have to do with engineering?!”

            Marquis was there for that interview. He had spent the entire time clutching Bindlebane, methodically fingering the trigger as he watched that hobo disguised as a respectable journalist talk to Phoebe’s chest for an hour and a half. Disrespectful worm. “Yes, well. I made sure to ask for a different journalist. Hopefully, this one takes you more seriously.”

            “We can only hope.” Phoebe removed her nightie and placed it on the bed. Marquis would have a minion bot add it to the laundry. “Do you suppose if we have time later, we can stop at NOVA for a while?” She tried to keep her tone neutral. Phoebe liked spending time with the other Battleborn away from the prying eyes of the LLC. There was a sense of camaraderie on the other ship that came with no strings attached.

 Marquis didn’t quite like the idea of spending so much time with the other Battleborn (whom he viewed on various degrees of savagery), but even he had to admit that they had a certain freedom on NOVA that they didn’t have on the Hemsworth guildship.

“Well, if we do everything on the schedule I believe we may have some extra time.” Marquis sighed.

            Phoebe’s entire face lit up. “Wonderful, Marquis! Well, in that case I’m off to the showers.”

            Marquis oversaw the minion bot that was responsible for setting out Phoebe’s outfits. The Magnus liked to double-check to ensure that the outfits were appropriate. In the privacy of their room, the Mangus wasn’t required to act as her butler, but old habits die hard. Marquis sat down by the bathroom door and read Phoebe the subjects of comm message. “Your mother has sent another list of suitors.”

            Phoebe spat a curse in French. Marquis was pleased that her immersion lessons were going well, but he had to wonder who taught her _that_. He highly doubted that Mademoiselle Dupont would include profanity in her curriculum. “You know what to do with that.” Phoebe yelled.           Marquis chuckled as he slid the comm message from Baroness Hemsworth into the recycle bin icon where it would join the other emails of the same subject matter. Phoebe stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a pillow soft bathrobe. “I don’t know why Mother insists on doing that.”

            “I assume her biological clock is ticking,” Marquis suggested. “Don’t humans have this need for grandchildren? She’s probably feeling the pressure.”

            Phoebe grimaced. “Well, she should get a hobby. Or a dog! Besides, I saw some of the specimens she had on the last list. Malcolm Peabody! Ha! If she thinks she can set me up with the boy who used to try to put his boogers in my hair than she’s sorely mistaken!”

            The Peabody family were an influential family with shared stocks in the Hemsworth industry as well as Minion Robotics. They had a net worth of 78 billion credits. Malcolm Peabody had a weak chin, had several sexual harassment lawsuits lobbied against him, and was rumored to have sent the woman carrying is illegitimate child to live in the Detritus Ring. Marquis would shoot Malcolm Peabody in the dick before he let him anywhere near Phoebe Hemsworth. “I’m sure your mother has her reasons,” Marquis said diplomatically. He highly suspected those reasons to be that she wanted a grandchild and was starting to get less picky about who sired it as long as they came from one of the old family names.

            Phoebe slid into his lap. Marquis gave her sympathetic cluck when she placed her head against his shoulder. “You know if I had any real say in who I got to marry—”

            Marquis shook his head. They had this conversation before. There was no use talking about it. It only made them both gloomy. “Current laws aren’t on our side, _Fraulein_.” The Magnus said. “Although, you’d make a very beautiful bride.”

            “It’s not fair!” Phoebe protested. “I’m a bloody Hemsworth! I should be able to marry whomever I want!”

            “You can’t do that because you are a Hemsworth.”

            “Patrick bloody Montague parades his robot secretary around with his hand permanently glued to her ass and no one says a word. He’s had that poor robot’s chest modified so many times that if gets any bigger the poor thing won’t be able to walk upright! I’m not asking for much, Marquis.” Phoebe pawed at her face, wiping away tears.

            Marquis didn’t have a response. He held her and allowed her to vent her frustrations. The universe wasn’t fair. The world let people like Patrick Montague use his robot secretary as a walking sex toy and the only response he got was a conspiratorial wink and chuckle from the other old boys. Phoebe Hemsworth would be the subject of a scandal if they found out about her relationship with Marquis. People would talk, the Hemsworth name would be dragged through the mud, and who knows what they’d do to Marquis.

It wasn’t fair, but what could they do?

            _Nothing._

***

Phoebe stirred her tea. It allowed her to gather her thoughts and as acted as a stalling tactic. Seated across from her was a visibly agitated interviewer from _Engineering Advancements Today_. The woman had a pair of black framed catseye glasses and a deep burgundy undercut that worked well with her tawny skin tone. The golden stud in her nose glinted under the bright lights of the room. A spherical recording bot floated next to her, the bright green light telling them both that it was powered on and recording at that very moment. Marquis stood silently in the corner, waiting to intervene if anything should go awry.

Phoebe cleared her throat. “Is anything wrong, Miss…”

The interviewer looked startled by the question. “Layla,” she said with a laugh. “And no not really. It’s just.” Layla glanced at her recorder. With a frown she waved her hand across its front. The light powered down and the recorder dropped into Layla’s palm. “Look, I’m going to level with you Baroness Hemsworth. My superiors? They want me to ask you, pardon my language, some really bullshit questions.”

Phoebe sighed. “Let me guess. Something along the lines of my dietary habits and who does my hair?”

Layla grimaced. “Also questions about your love life,” she said. At least she had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I thought that when I took this assignment I was going to be able to talk to you about serious stuff! You are the youngest LLC inventor, you’re the heiress to one of the most influential LLC dynasties, and you’ve gone toe to toe with the Varelsi in defense of Solus!”

Phoebe beamed. “Why yes, I’ve done all of that.” She sipped her tea. “I must say you’re an improvement compared to the last gentleman they sent.”

Layla looked confused so Phoebe elaborated. “Skinny fellow with a bushy beard. Used an eye-link recorder. Spent 95% of the interview staring at my chest?”

“Oh my god, that sounds like Caleb.” Layla buried her face in her hands. “They sent Caleb fucking Didderson to interview you? Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Phoebe chuckled. “It’s quite all right. I’m just glad to not be dealing with him this time around. But,” she leaned forward, “That does bring to question what will be done about this interview.”

Layla glanced at her hands. “I don’t want to ask you these questions.” She admitted. “They’re bullshit and sexist as hell. They don’t do you justice.”

“So don’t.”

“Pardon?”

Phoebe shrugged. “Don’t ask them. Ask the questions that you want to ask. What’s the worst that they can do?”

Layla arched a brow. “They can fire me.” She pointed out. And that was true.

Phoebe laughed. “If they fire you then you can come work for us. We’ve recently had some, let’s say, problem employees. Tell me, do you have a background in investigative journalism?”

Layla blinked. “Yes, actually. _Engineering Advancements Today_ hired me straight out of college. I, um, had an in—my friend Douglas. I figured it would look good on my resume and give me experience since they’re—supposed to be—a reputable magazine.”

“Splendid! Unfortunately, the position would be more investigative and less journalism. You’d be doing background checks, investigating their previous history, making sure that they are who they claim to be on their applications.” Phoebe took another sip of her tea.

“Hypothetically,” Layla said. “How much would that pay?” Since it was out of her career field, Layla wanted to be sure it was worth it. After all, she had bills to pay.

Phoebe wrote down a number on a napkin and handed it to Layla. Layla looked at what she wrote. She looked up at Phoebe then back at the paper. “Are you serious?”

“I would never kid about such a thing.” Phoebe said gravely. “Now unfortunately the position is only part-time at the moment—ˮ

“This is part-time?!”

Phoebe frowned at the interruption, but continued nonplussed. “As I was saying, the position is part-time at the moment, but should you prove yourself there could be opportunity for it to become full-time with an increase in pay.”

Layla stared at the paper in her hand. Finally, she slipped the napkin into the breast pocket of her vest. “Um,” she cleared her throat. “I will need some time to think about this.”

“Of course,” Phoebe said with a genteel smile. “Marquis? Be a darling and provide Miss Layla with one of my cards. I do hope to hear from you. Now,” Phoebe clapped her hands. “Shall we commence with the interview?”

“Sure.” Layla grinned. She glanced at the index card with the questions provided by her editor. Layla ripped them in half and placed them on the table. She turned her recorder back on and started her interview. “This is Layla Rodriquez of _Engineering Advancements Today_ beginning my interview with Baroness Phoebe Elizabeth Audelia Hemsworth IV of the Last Light Consortium…”

***

Roald Kimmel was a sweaty little man, with thinning red hair combed into a swoop and held to his scalp by gel. He was the head of the Acquisitions department at Hemsworth Intelligence and he had worked for the company for over fifteen years.

One would think that given his tenure with the company, Mr. Kimmel would learn better organizational skills when it came to important paperwork.

Marquis kept his eye trained on Kimmel as he stood behind Phoebe’s seat. The heiress was looking over the stained paperwork that Kimmel had given her at the beginning of the meeting. Kimmel was drenched in sweat despite the office temperature being set at a pleasant seventy degrees. “Mr. Kimmel,” the man looked like a spooked haresburra at the sound of Phoebe’s voice. “I’m noticing some discrepancies in your paperwork. It says here that on 199962 d. 72, you approved an order for sixty minion bots and eighty loader bots for Hemsworth Arms? I’ve spoken with Tobias Kinkaid who acts as overseer in Hemsworth Arms, and he tells me that he has yet to see the robots that were ordered. Now, how does one misplace a hundred and forty robots?”

“Um, well you see Baroness Hemsworth, ma’am.” Marquis was amazed the human didn’t pass out from lack of fluids. “What happened was I may have written down the wrong coordinates?”

Phoebe fixed him with a steely glare. “You may have or you did? These chocolate and coffee stained forms seem to say that that is indeed what you did. Now Mr. Kimmel, please tell me how you’ve worked for Hemsworth Intelligence for…,” She glanced at her information. “ _Fifteen and a half years_ and yet you still don’t know the correct coordinates?”

Roald Kimmel dabbed at his forehead with his already soaked hanky. “I was having an off day?” he whispered. “Happens to the best of us, right?”

Phoebe was having none of that. “An off day?” she repeated mockingly. “I’m sorry but I don’t believe losing a hundred and forty bleeding robots at a cost of 980,000 credits can be called ‘an off day’. _That_ is what we like to refer to as a royal fuck up, Mr. Kimmel!”

Kimmel flinched. “Miss Hemsworth,” he said weakly. “When your father hired me—ˮ

“Oh, please tell me you’re not going to try to play that card.” Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Here’s the deal, Roald. Daddy has seen it fit to leave the majority of the company’s day to day workings in my hands. He believes that it will provide me with valuable hands-on experience with the company that I’m going to inherit.” She smiled. “And it has worked wonders I must say. But that’s enough about me. Back to you. You’re fired.”

“Fired?” Kimmel sputtered like a dying engine. “You can’t fire me!”

“ _Really_?” Phoebe placed a hand on her bosom and gasped. She looked over her shoulder at Marquis with a smirk. “Did you hear that, Marquis? Mr. Roald Kimmel says that I _can’t_ fire him!”

“I believe he’s mistaken, ma’am.” Marquis sniffed. “You have in your hands 980,000 credits worth of reasons why you most certainly can fire him.”

“Excellent point, Marquis! As per usual,” Phoebe smiled. She turned her attention back to Roald Kimmel who was turning an interesting shade of puce. “You are fired, Mr. Kimmel. Clear out your desk, turn in your credentials, and please see yourself off the premises.” Phoebe’s fingers danced over her datapad. “Security has been informed of your termination as well as HR. Your ID badge will automatically shut down within the hour giving you Level 0 clearance. This office,” she said with a wave of her a hand, “Requires Level 2 and above to access and if you’re still here I’m afraid the proper procedure will see you being both maced and tazed for your trouble.”

Roald Kimmel rounded his desk and grabbed Phoebe by her arms. “You can’t do this!” he shouted. His eyes were wild. “I’ll have to leave the LLC!”

Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Mr. Kimmel please unhand me. You’re only making the situation worse.”

“You pompous arrogant bitch!” Kimmel snarled, spraying Phoebe with spittle. “You have any idea—auugh!”

Marquis had taken a firm grip on Kimmel’s right wrist and was gradually applying pressure. The Magnus’s usually blue ocular was now glowing a dangerous red. “Baroness Hemsworth asked you to release her. If you do not comply I will pound your worthless meat body into unemployable paste.”

“You’re hurting me!”

“ _Ja_ , that’s the idea.”

Kimmel moved back, removing himself from Phoebe’s personal space. He cradled his wrist and gave both Phoebe and Marquis a wounded look. “I should sue.” He muttered.

Phoebe got to her feet. She smoothed down her overcoat and shot Kimmel a poisonous look. “Try it,” she said with a sneer. “Good-bye, Mr. Kimmel. I wish you good luck with whatever lies in your future. Do not expect a reference from us.”

When they were in the elevators, Phoebe gave Marquis a look of admonishment. “I had the situation under control, Marquis.”

The Magnus chuckled. “I’m sure.” He said. Marquis took her hand in his, brushing his thumb gently over her knuckles. He positioned his body to shield his actions from the cameras. “Can you not humor me and allow me to act chivalrous every once in a while?”

Phoebe smiled. “I suppose.” She said softly. She gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it just as the elevator door’s slid open. “Just don’t make a habit of it or I’ll think you’re treating me like a damsel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

After a maintenance tour which left Phoebe wanting to pull out her hair, Marquis decided that maybe they could both benefit from some time away from the LLC. Phoebe floated up the ramp of Marquis’s gold-plated victory yacht, followed by the minion bots carrying her luggage. “Father, I’m sending you a copy of invoices so that you can see for yourself why my firing Mr. Kimmel was totally justified.” Phoebe said over her comm as she took a seat by Marquis.

 “Phoebe, darling,” Baron Bertholomew Hemsworth said over the comm. “I’m sure that your judgement is sound, but—ˮ Phoebe suppressed a scream. “Roald is a dear family friend. I’m sure that whatever amount he lost—ˮ

With a few taps of her fingers, Phoebe emailed her father the information she’d obtained from her earlier meeting. She gave her father a few seconds to open the attachment and peruse the documents.

“ _Oh_.” Lord Hemsworth said on his end. “My goodness. That’s…” he coughed and cleared his throat. “That is a substantial loss.”

“Yes, Daddy-kins it is.” Phoebe folded her arms. “And did I mention that he attacked me?”

“He did what?”

“Oh yes. He took his termination poorly. Lord knows what would have happened is Marquis wasn’t there.” Phoebe would have been able to take care of the problem, but sometimes it helped if her father thought she was in danger. Of course, he wasn’t pleased to learn that it was Marquis had come to her rescue if the silence was anything to go by.

“Yes,” Baron Hemsworth sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. “How fortunate that Marquis was there.”

Marquis glanced in Phoebe’s direction. The fact that Baron Hemsworth hated Marquis made his inner wirings tingle with pleasure. Well, that and the fact that he didn’t know that Marquis was sleeping with his daughter on a regular basis.

Phoebe tossed Marquis a smile. “I’m so glad Marquis was there, Daddy.” Phoebe made her voice sound sugary sweet. “To think you wanted to fire him! For shame! Time and time again he’s proved himself invaluable to me.”

Marquis could practically hear her father stewing. “We did hire that Alpian fellow to act as your bodyguard, my dear.” Baron Hemsworth pointed out tersely. “Perhaps you would benefit from having him around more.”

“Daddy, you know that El Dragón is attempting to make his return to the ring! And don’t forget his mother has recently taken ill, so he’s spending more time with family.”

Baron Hemsworth harrumphed. “Yes, yes. I would just feel more comfortable if you had some other company besides that, that Magnus,” he said the word with extra disgusted emphasis. Marquis’s eye narrowed. “Which reminds me; have you had a chance to look over the updated list of suitors that your mother sent? I offered some suggestions this time around for some promising candidates.”

Phoebe rolled her eyes heavenward. “Did Mummy send me a list?” her voice painted the picture of innocence. “I simply _must_ look over my holonet account settings. I feel like Mummy’s messages keep being sent to my spam folder for some reason. How very odd!”

“Yes. How very odd, indeed.”

“Well, Daddy-kins I do enjoy our conversations, but I must be going. Marquis and I are going to go spend time with the other Battleborn. Captain Ghalt might even give me a mission!”

“Phoebe darling, you know how I feel about you associating with those people…”

“Daddy-kins, everyone needs a hobby. You and Grandfather have your hunting. Mummy has her society meetings. I kill Varelsi. Hobbies!”

Her father sighed. “You’re right my dear.” He sounded weary. “Just be careful, won’t you? Your mother and I would be at a loss if anything were to happen to you.”

Phoebe felt herself tear up. “Daddy…” Her father was not known for his sentimentality, so this was quite the surprise for her.

“After all, we invested a lot of time, money, and effort into raising you. It would be such a waste if you were to just go and get yourself killed! Not to mention terribly selfish.”

_And he ruined it. He just fucking ruined it._ Marquis shook his head. _Unbelievable._

“Goodbye, Father.” Phoebe shut off her comm. The last of the luggage had been loaded and the minion bots exited the yacht. “Ugh.”

Marquis closed the door of the ship. He sent a message to NOVA, requesting coordinates to the Battleborn’s current location. NOVA sent him a response a few seconds later and he typed the coordinates into his dash. “I could kill him.” Marquis said.

Phoebe sighed and draped an arm over her eyes. “Yes, Marquis my love, I know. You only suggest it about once every week.”

“I just want you to know that the offer still stands.”

Phoebe stood and walked over to him so she could give him a kiss. The Magnus may not have lips, but the intent was still the same. “Marquis, you are so good to me, but please don’t kill my father. No matter how annoying he is.”

Marquis pulled Phoebe into his lap. “If that is what you want.” He said. “Now, based on my calculations and the coordinates that NOVA gave me, we have an hour before we reach them.”

Phoebe gave him a teasing smile. “Oh my,” she said and started to undo his tie. “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”

With a growl, Marquis hoisted her onto his shoulder and started to carry her towards the bedroom. Phoebe squealed with laughter. “Marquis!” she giggled. “Put me down this instant! This is most undignified!”

Marquis gave her rump a pat. “I can’t hear you, _meine Blume_.” He said with a chuckle.

Phoebe blew a lock of hair out of her face. “You are absolutely incorrigible.”

***

“NOVA calling _Kapitalgewinn_. Come in, _Kapitalgewinn_. Seriously, where are you guys?”

Phoebe jogged for the intercom on the dashboard. She yelped as she tripped over her skirts and went tumbling to the floor. “Damn it.” Phoebe muttered. She crawled the rest of the way to the dashboard.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

“Ahem! Yes! Hello, NOVA! Phoebe here! How are you?”

The Magnus was silent for a moment. “I’m fine.” NOVA said. “Um, you okay? You sound out of breath. It, um, also took you a minute or two to get your response. Is everything okay on your end?”

Phoebe laughed a laugh that went on for too long. “Of course I am! What a silly question! My goodness! I was simply in the loo. Yes. That’s something we humans need to do every now and again.”

“Uh-huh. Where’s Marquis? He doesn’t need to do that.”

Phoebe spluttered. “What’s with all the questions, NOVA?”

“Sorry. There’s just not a lot to do around here. Besides, for all I know you could be a Varelsi shapeshifter trying to trick me into letting you inside.”

Phoebe blinked. “Varelsi…? Is there such a thing as a Varelsi shapeshifter?”

“I dunno.” NOVA admitted. “We don’t know anything about them.”

“That’s true.” Phoebe said. She climbed to her feet and took a seat. “We barely know anything about them. Given the different shapes of their physiology and the different variety of their fauna, it is entirely possible that they might possess the ability to shapeshift.”

“Really?” NOVA sounded interested. “To be honest, I was kinda bullshitting you, but if you think there’s actually some credibility to this…”

“Of course! I mean look at the Varelsi Menagerie horror!” Phoebe bounced up and down in her seat. “Oooh, I wish they didn’t evaporate when we killed them. I would love to dissect one of them.”

Marquis walked into the room, fully dressed and looking as orderly as usual. “Is there a problem, Phoebe?”

“Oh, I was just talking to NOVA. We were discussing the possibility of Varelsi shapeshifters!”

“That actually sounds terrifying.”

“I know, right?” NOVA said. “By the way, what’s the password?”

“Password?” Phoebe looked at Marquis who shrugged. “I don’t know any password. Since when do we have a password?”

“We don’t.” NOVA admitted. “I’ve run it across by Ghalt but he says that sounds a little paranoid. Plus, there’s the fact that a lot of the crew probably wouldn’t remember a password to save their lives. I just thought it might be fun.”

Phoebe and Marquis exchanged a look. “NOVA, how’s that robot suit coming?” Marquis asked.

“It’s not.” NOVA said in a flat tone. “Kleese keeps putting it off. I don’t think he’s ever going to make it. I’m so bored.”

Phoebe wasn’t surprised. Kleese was a miserable old goat who wrote checks that were too big to cash. “I’m going to be honest. You shouldn’t rely on Kleese. How about this? I’ll get the schematics from Kleese and see what Hemsworth Intelligence can do.”

“What?” NOVA exclaimed. “You mean it?”

“It shouldn’t be hard.” Phoebe said. “I mean, with the combined workforce of Hemsworth Intelligence—”

“Phoebe, you have no idea how much this means to me!” NOVA sounded beside herself with joy.

Phoebe smiled. “Happy to help, NOVA.” Also happy to spite Gunnar Kleese, but NOVA didn’t need to know that. “Now how about letting us in?”

“Sure thing,” NOVA said. “Opening bay doors for _Kapitalgewinn_. Hope you’re both decent,” she added before ending the call.

Phoebe gaped at the dashboard. “The very cheek!” she scowled.

Marquis gave Phoebe a once over. “Your top, _meine Blume_.”

“What about it?”

“You’re not wearing one.”

***

“I keep tellin’ you fools, it’s not mine!”

“Well, if it’s not yours, Reyna then whose is it?”

“Uh, how the hell am I supposed to know?”

The Battleborn were gathered in debriefing room. They stood in a circle staring down at something on the floor.

It was a pregnancy test. A _positive_ pregnancy test complete with digital balloons and confetti on the little LED screen.

“So, like, one of you is going to be a mom?” Oscar Mike said. “Mellka, you’d be a great mom!”

“Um thanks?” Mellka frowned. “But that’s not mine.”

“You sure?”

“Am I sure that I didn’t purchase a pregnancy test, pee on it, and then drop it? Mm yeah I’m pretty sure.”

“Wait, you have to pee on that thing?” Oscar Mike recoiled. “Sick, bro!”

“Oscar, sweetie.” Deande sighed. “How do you think pregnancy tests work?”

“Deande?” Whiskey Foxtrot took a step forward. “Do you know how pregnancy tests work because this one is yours?”

“What? No, it’s not mine! I know how pregnancy tests work because I’m over 1,000 years old, Foxtrot!”

“I was just checking, honey!”

Deande’s cheeks reddened. “Well, check with someone else!”

Pendles sat in the corner practically doubled over with laughter. The former spy mistress glared at him. “For all we know it’s Alani’s. Would serve you right with all that fake baby talk.”

The laughter died in the Roan’s throat. He turned to Alani who had been standing beside him. Pendles made a choking noise. “Oh my god, Pendles! Breathe! It’s not mine! Deande, don’t do that to him!”

The Jennerit ex-spy mistress crossed her arms and sniffed. “Apologies,” she said in a tone that clearly said she didn’t mean it.

Phoebe and Marquis entered the room, drawn by the commotion. “What’s all this?” Phoebe asked. She parted the group and glanced at the floor. Phoebe groaned loudly. “Not this again.” She stooped to pick up the pregnancy test and went to throw it in the nearest garbage can.

“Whoa! Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Dude, not cool!” Oscar Mike yelled. “That’s someone’s pee stick! You, like, need their permission before you throw it away or something!”

Phoebe stared at him. “It’s ISIC’s.”

“Um,” Oscar Mike scratched the side of his helmet. “Well, I’m confused. I’m pretty sure ISIC doesn’t—”

“No! I mean, this is his handiwork. Kleese, you remember! He pulled this same stunt at the Expo a year ago!”

“Oh my god,” the elderly scientist gasped. “Now that you mention I do recall something like that happening. Yes! Someone threw a fake pregnancy test among the crowd.”

Phoebe nodded. “Duke Leeland got into a fistfight with Lord Kensington because he found out that he was having an affair with his wife.”

“It got ugly.” Kleese agreed.

“I guarantee ISIC is somewhere nearby laughing at the chaos he caused. Isn’t that right, ISIC?”

“Nooooo.” ISIC’s voice replied from inside a utility closet.

“Get out here, ISIC!” Phoebe ordered.

The Magnus trundled out of the closet. “Hiya fellas! How’s it going?”

“I can’t believe you did that stupid pregnancy test trick again!” Phoebe scowled. “What is wrong with you?”

“Oh wow, where do I start?” ISIC chuckled. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t use something more than once. It’s uncreative.”

“Wait! That’s not—”

“I should come up new and exciting ways to sew chaos and undo the boring pit of boredom that’s become my very existence. Haha!” ISIC sighed pleasantly. “Well, I’m off to do just that! Thanks, Phoebe!” ISIC turned and trotted off.

Phoebe stared at the Magnus’s retreating back. “Oh, that can’t be good.” She muttered.

“We’ll deal with ISIC later.” Ghalt said. “Right now, I got intel on a Varelsi portal bloom in the old Ocoban Mining Facility. I need—”

“Ooh! Me! _Me_!” Phoebe waved her hand. “I want to kill things! It’s been that kind of day.”

“Um, okay.” Ghalt said. “Phoebe, Marquis, Rath, Miko, and Caldarius we’ll drop you at Ocoban to clear it out.”

***

Marquis trudged through the snow, muttering about how the dampness was going to ruin his expensive shoes. Caldarius was soaring somewhere above them. Phoebe had bolted off the ship as soon as they landed, eager to stick her sabers into Varelsi flesh. He worried about her. Not about the bloodlust, he wasn’t about to judge her for that. MINREC knows how many organics he’d kill since the Great Severance. No, Marquis worried about that Phoebe was being overworked. Her father’s failing health was causing him to remove himself more and more from the company and leaving Phoebe to handle it. It astounded the Magnus with how selfish Baron Hemsworth could be at times. Phoebe was more than capable of running Hemsworth Intelligence and all of its subsidiaries, but she shouldn’t have to!

_The nerve of that lout questioning her decisions._ Marquis groused. _Phoebe had undeniable proof that Kimmel was in the wrong, but he still questioned her decisions._ Arschloch _._  

Speaking of his lady love, where was she?

“Sorry to bother everyone,” Phoebe’s voice huffed over the comm. “But I’ve seem to have bitten off more than I can chew. A little assistance would be appreciated.”

Oh no. Marquis held his hat as he sprinted. “Phoebe, where are you?”

“Over by the—keep your disgusting nightmare hands to yourself! I’m over by the cliffs! Oh god, it’s a Menagerie! The bloody Conservator summoned a Menagerie!” She started screaming.

“Over by the cliffs. Over by the cliffs. _Which_ cliffs?”

“Spotted Lady Hemsworth.” Caldarius’s voice said over the comm. “Attempting rescue.”

Well, the good news was that Marquis was able to follow the sound of the Jennerit’s rockets to Phoebe’s location. The bad news was that by the time he got there, the fight was over and Caldarius was cradling a barely conscious Phoebe in his arms.

Phoebe’s eyes fluttered open. Her midsection was soaked in blood from the three claw marks slashed into her flesh “Mm, Caldarius? Whatever are you doing here?” Her voice was weak. “Oh, how embarrassing.”

“Easy, Miss Hemsworth.” The ex-gladiator said. “Miko is on their way. Try not to make it worse.”

The Hemsworth heir nodded. “This has just been the worst day.” She complained.

Caldarius chuckled. “I’m sure that it has been.”

“You have a lovely laugh.”

“Why thank you. You have a lovely everything.”

“Oh! My goodness!” Phoebe blushed.

Marquis had heard enough. Who the hell flirts (if one could call _that_ flirting) with someone bleeding to death?! “Baroness Hemsworth!” Marquis called. “I’m on my way.”

“Marquis!” Phoebe smiled. “I’m so happy to see you! Also embarrassed. I made a right mess of everything, didn’t I?”

“Shh, save your energy,” the Magnus told her. “Where’s that mushroom?”

“They’re on their way.” Caldarius said. “Lady Phoebe perhaps you should try staying awake.”

“Ohh, but I’m so sleepy!” Phoebe protested. She closed her eyes. “Just let me rest.”

“Put her down,” Marquis ordered. “I’ll take care of her.”

“I think not.” Caldarius said. He angled away from Marquis. “Lady Hemsworth needs protection. Something that you apparently can’t adequately supply.”

Marquis’s eye flashed. “Excuse me?” he snarled. “I have been protecting Phoebe for over eighteen years!”

“If that’s true, I’m surprised she’s still alive.”

Marquis took a step forward, gripping Brindlebane tightly. “At least _I_ know that with stomach wounds you’re supposed to lay her down and hold her feet up and bind them with bandages, you oaf!”

Caldarius stiffened. “In my defense,” he said, “I’m more inclined to cause bleeding then stop it.”

“Put her down!”

“You can’t order me to do anything, you fucking tin can!”

It was then that Miko appeared. The combat botanist spotted Phoebe and ran over to her. They ripped off their head and threw it to the ground. The rooted mushroom cap poured out healing spores to help Miko’s biosynthesis beam. Miko kept working, but they occasionally glanced between Marquis and Caldarius wholly aware of the tension between them. They weren’t sure what they interrupted, but they thought it best not to comment on it.

Phoebe opened her eyes. “Hello, terrifying mushroom,” she smiled.

Miko chuckled. “Hello, Phoebe,” they replied. “All things are extinguished in the end, such is the natural order. However, it is not your time. Rest now. Doctor’s orders.” Miko turned to address Marquis. “The bleeding has stopped and our healing shall take care of the rest.” Miko smiled. “Sadly, the dress cannot be salvaged,” they said as a way to lighten the mood.

“Thank you,” Marquis doffed his hat to the Eldrid healer. “Your assistance is most appreciated.”

Miko bowed. “We do our best.”

Marquis eyed Caldarius. “I suppose you’ll be carrying her back to the ship?”

“You suppose correctly,” the Kemessian sounded like he was smirking beneath his mask. “After all, I was the one who saved her.”

“ _Fick dich ins Knie_!” Marquis spat.

Caldarius blinked. “What?”

Marquis coughed, embarrassed by his outburst. “Ah…It means you have my gratitude,” he lied. “Captain Ghalt! I would much appreciate an immediate retrieval. Baroness Phoebe has been injured.”

“We’re on our way,” Ghalt said over the comms. “Try to hang on.”

Caldarius eyed Marquis. “What?” Marquis snapped.

“I don’t think what you said means what you told me.”

“Well, then you’re not as stupid as you look, Caldarius.”

***

“Really, I’m fine!” Phoebe said. Caldarius had set her down on sofa in the briefing room. Marqis hovered by her side. “My pride is the only thing really damaged by this ordeal.”

“Really?” Reyna said. “That giant hole in your dress and the blood say differently. What the hell happened?”

Phoebe covered her eyes with her arm and groaned. “I have had such a horrible day! I thought I could just release some steam by killing some Varelsi. I was so busy stabbing that I didn’t notice I was surrounded and that they had summoned the bloody Conservator until it was too late.” Phoebe scowled. “It was foolish and sloppy.” She sighed. “Luckily, Caldarius was there to help.”

The ex-gladiator shoved his way past Marquis and knelt down. “I was happy to help you, Phoebe.” He took her hand and pressed the back of it against the part of his mask where his mouth would be. Phoebe let out a surprised giggle.

Marquis felt a strong urge to cave in the Jennerit’s skull.

“Uh-oh,” Whiskey Foxtrot whispered to Reyna. Reyna glanced at Marquis, feeling the Magnus’s rage even from where she was standing, and she had to agree.

Marquis clapped his hands together. “Well, Phoebe has had a long day.” He said. “Perhaps, I should get her to bed.”

“I can help.” Caldarius said.

“I don’t need your help!” Marquis roared. He winced at his outburst.

Phoebe stared at him. “Marquis?” She studied him, perplexed. “Are you quite all right?”

“Ah yes. Apologies, Madam.” Marquis bowed his head. “It has been a stressful day.”

Phoebe’s eyes softened. How could she have been so insensitive? Marquis must have been so worried about her when he saw Phoebe in that state. “You’re right.” She said. Phoebe held out her hand and allowed Marquis to help her to her feet. “Well, everyone I bid you a good evening. Caldarius? Thank you again.”

“My pleasure, Lady Phoebe.” The ex-gladiator bowed.

Phoebe and Marquis exited the room, but not before Marquis threw one a final scathing look in Caldarius’s direction.

When they were gone, Reyna turned to Caldarius. “Man, you are playin’ with fire,” she said. “Marquis looked like he was ready to straight up murder you.”

Caldarius snorted and got to his feet. “I’m not afraid of Marquis.”

“No one’s saying you should be,” Rath told him. “But perhaps you should err on the side of caution. Maybe not goad him so much?”

“It’s not my fault he was too slow to do his job properly.” Caldarius took a seat on the couch. “His wounded pride is not my concern.”

“Dude,” Whiskey Foxtrot said. He folded his arms. “You know this is about a lot more than his pride. You were flirting with Phoebe— _In front of him_.”

“Phoebe didn’t seem that put it out.”

“Uh, Phoebe gave up on you a long time ago and probably just thinks you’re being weirdly friendly.” Reyna said.

Caldarius groaned. “She did?”

“The girl was throwing you every signal and it bounced off you like you had upped your shield strength.” Reyna chuckled. “She just assumed you weren’t into her and moved on.  Besides she and Marquis are back together. Not to mention you were flirting with her when she was all woozy with blood loss, you weirdo. Marquis on the other hand knows what you were doing and he doesn’t appreciate it.” The Rogue commander frowned. “Not my business, but maybe you should tread carefully.”

***

“I’m afraid that this dress is unsalvageable.” Phoebe lamented. She stood in her underwear holding the bloody dress up for inspection. With a sigh she tossed it into the trash. “Blast.” Phoebe climbed into bed. “What a day.”

Marquis undressed and joined her. He raised his internal heat before moving close to spoon Phoebe. “I’m sorry you were hurt. I should have worked harder to protect you.”

“Marquis, you can’t be everywhere all the time.” Phoebe chuckled. She gave his hand a pat. “Besides, it was my fault. This is a little embarrassing to admit, but I was imagining that the Varelsi I was stabbing were my father and Roald Kimmel. Not healthy, I know.”

Marquis joined her in her laughter. “Very naughty, Phoebe.” He said merrily. The Magnus quickly sobered. “In all seriousness, you should be more careful.”

“I know, I know.” Phoebe sighed. She went silent for a moment. “Marquis? What was that back there? You and Caldarius seemed to be at one another’s throats for some reason.”

Marquis was puzzled. Did she not realize…

_Mein gott, she doesn’t!_ Marquis felt gleeful laugh bubbling in his throat. She didn’t realize Caldarius was flirting with her! All his effort was for nothing! Serves him right.

Phoebe was startled by the sound of Marquis’s maniacal laughter. “Good heavens, Marquis!”

“Apologies, Phoebe.” The Magnus dialed it back. “I just thought of a funny joke about a duck and…it’s not important _meine Blume_. You need your rest.”

Phoebe closed her eyes. “What would I do without you?” she whispered.

***

“And please include more scrambled eggs,” Marquis told Whiskey Foxtrot. “She loves yours scrambled eggs.”

Whiskey Foxtrot assembled the to-go plate. “The secret is love.” The clone told him.

Marquis stared at him. “Really?”

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you. It’s cayenne pepper. I use that instead of black pepper.”

“Fascinating.” Marquis said drily. “Could you give her some toast too?”

Whiskey sighed. “Always a pleasure talking to you, Marquis.”

Oscar Mike ran up. “Bro! You totally have to give me another plate of pancakes! Fast!”

Whiskey Foxtrot frowned. “Seriously? That’s like your—wait,” he narrowed his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not getting into another eating contest with Montana. You know you can’t beat him. No one can! Except El Dragón and _maybe_ Ghalt.”

“I totally can this time!” Oscar Mike protested. “I got, like, a strategy!”

“Oscar, babe. You know how this is gonna end.”

“Yeah, total victory!”

“No,” Whiskey Foxtrot sighed. “It’s going to end with you barfing all over the floor. Remember meatball sub night?”

Oscar Mike hung his head for a second. “I can beat him this time. I feel it in my guts!” the clone belched. “No, wait. That’s something else.”

“Deande!” Whiskey Foxtrot called. The Jennerit looked up from her plate. “Please come save Oscar Mike from himself.”

Deande walked over. “What’s happening?” she asked.

“Eating contest…with Montana.”

“Oh dear lord.” Deande sighed. “Honey, no. Remember meatball hoagie night?”

“Ugh, my stomach.”

“Yep,” Deande took him by the arm. “Let’s get you to Beatrix.”

Oscar Mike perked up. “Awesome! She’s got candy!”

“No. No, Oscar we’re not going for candy.” Deande sighed. “Whiskey, would you be a dear and put my plate on the warmer. I’ll be back for as soon as I get Oscar looked at.”

Caldarius entered the mess hall. Marquis narrowed his eye at the sight of him. Caldarius felt the weight of the Magnus’s stare and smirked before making his way over to the meal line. “Morning, Whiskey Foxtrot, Oscar Mike, Deande.” Caldarius nodded at them. He turned to the Magnus. “Marquis,” he said, his tone icy.

“Caldarius.” _Asshole._

“Collecting food for Miss Phoebe? How useful of you.”

Deande looked between Caldarius and Marquis. “Um, Oscar Mike we should go.” The Jennerit spy mistress said. She tugged at his arm.

Oscar Mike was too busy looking back at the table where Montana was chugging a bottle of syrup. “Huh?”

“Well, I’m just being courteous.” Marquis said. “Phoebe needs to stay in bed and rest. She was injured.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Caldarius replied. He folded his arms. “ _I_ was the one who saved her.”

Marquis’s hand tightened into a fist. “Yes.” He ground out. “I remember.”

Caldarius shifted his weight to one leg and studied the Magnus. “You never did thank me.” He pointed out. “I can only imagine what would have happened to you if Miss Phoebe died.”

“Watch yourself, Caldarius.” Marquis growled.

“Whatever for?” the ex-gladiator asked. “Do I make you nervous, Marquis?”

“Pah! Hardly!”

Caldarius tilted his head to side and studied the Magnus. “I _do_. I do make you nervous.” The Kemessian sounded delighted. “And do you know why?”

The rest of the mess hall had gone quiet. “Foxtrot love, Oscar and I will see you later. Okay? Bye! Come along, Oscar!” Deande successfully tugged the clone out of the room.

“Wait,” Oscar Mike said. “What’s going on?”

“Tell you later, love. Let’s get you to Beatrix!”

“I said, do you know why I make you nervous, Marquis?” Caldarius ignored the others.

Marquis folded his hands on top of Bindlebane. It would take a mere second to activate his gun and shoot the bastard in the eye. “Please enlighten me, hobo.”

“Well, it’s because—”

“Sorry to interrupt,” NOVA’s voice ran out, “But Ghalt requests everyone’s presence for an away mission.”

            Caldarius snorted. He walked past Marquis, bumping his shoulder. “To be continued,” the Kemessian said.

            “I look forward to it.” Marquis retorted. He glanced at Whiskey Foxtrot. “Finish fixing that plate so I can get it to Phoebe.”

            “Right gotcha.” Whiskey Foxtrot spooned more eggs and slipped more toast onto the plate. “Here ya go.”

            “ _Danke_ ,” the Magnus said. He had to get this plate to Phoebe before he found out what Ghalt wanted.

***

            Phoebe gratefully accepted her plate, stating that she just figured out how to fix the collaborations of something she was working so she gave Marquis a kiss before making her way to her lab. Marquis made his way to the briefing room where the others were waiting for intel on the away mission.

            Ghalt had been MIA for the last couple of days, busy with diplomatic discussions with Planet Mike, smoothing ruffled feathers at the UPR, and generally keeping everything running smoothly. Reyna said he hadn’t been sleeping well, and it was starting to show.

            “All right, people,” Ghalt said. “We got intel on a Imperium loyal Thrall setting up a beacon on an uninhabited dwarf planet. The mission itself isn’t difficult. Get in, destroy the beacon, then get out. That’s why I’m only send three of you. Oscar Mike, Marquis, and Caldarius, get ready to head out.”

            Ghalt was too busy looking at his files to notice the other Battleborn stiffen and cast wary looks at Caldarius and Marquis. “Um, Ghalt?” Mellka took a step forward. “Maybe you wanna reconsider some of your, um, choices?”

            “Yeah,” Benedict chimed in. “Any reason these three in particular have to go? I mean, I’d be pleased as punch to break in my newest batch of rockets. I could take Caldy’s place.”

            “Or,” Mellka offered. “I could take Marquis’ place. Just spitballing here.”

            Ghalt yawned. He waved away their suggestions. “Marquis and Caldarius have had the less amount of away missions this month. It’s about being fair.”

“Well, what about Kleese?” Mellka demanded.

Ghalt glanced at her, eyebrow arched. “You really trust Kleese down there having Oscar Mike’s back?” Mellka’s mouth formed a thin line and she stared sullenly at the floor. Ghalt nodded, satisfied. “NOVA, how long before we reach the drop point?

            “We’re here now, Captain,” the Magnus said. “I’m not showing any Thralls on the planet. I think they just set up the beacon and left. Weird.”

            “See? Easy job.” Ghalt smiled. “Off you go.”

            Oscar Mike saluted and bounded for the hangar doors. Marquis and Caldarius followed silently.

Mellka watched them leave before whirling around to face Ghalt. “What the hell, man?!”

Ghalt seemed startled. “Mell, what’s the matter?”  
            “What’s the matter?” the Eldrid mercenary snapped. “Uh gee, I wonder if it has anything to do with how you just sent our boyfriend down to an empty planet with those two feuding assholes!”

“Feuding…what?”

“Wow,” Reyna said. “I told you that you needed to take a break.” The Rogue commander sighed.

“So, remember how last game night I might have mentioned that Phoebe had a thing for Caldarius?” Benedict scratched at the side of his neck. “And that this time around Caldarius actually listened?”

“Yeah,” Ghalt sighed, “Led to a talk about Marquis’s robot junk.”

Benedict nodded. “Yep! Well, Caldy may have started tryin’ to do something about it.”

Ghalt looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“He’s attempting to woo Phoebe,” Rath clarified. “In front of Marquis.”

“Ho-lee shit.” Ghalt pulled a chair around then dropped into it. He looked at his files. “And I just sent them down there—ˮ

“Together,” Mellka growled, “with Oscar Mike in the middle. So I repeat: What. The. _Hell_?!”

“Hey, I can fix this.” Ghalt said. “Let me just call them back.”

“They’re already off the ship,” NOVA informed him. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem. I’ll just get them on their comms.” Ghalt turned to the computer’s dashboard. “Marquis and Caldarius. Come in, Marquis and Caldarius.” The UPR captain frowned. “Why the hell aren’t they responding?”

“Maybe they’ve already killed each other,” ISIC suggested in a cheery tone. “Problem solved.” The Magnus looked at Ghalt. “Since you don’t need me, can I go back to my room? I got some real neat-o stuff that I’m working on.”

Ghalt didn’t know which situation he should be concerned more about; Marquis and Caldarius or whatever ISIC wanted to do in his quarters.

***

Oscar Mike marched through the forest, humming the theme song from _One Star to Live_ completely oblivious to the tension between Caldarius and Marquis until it became too much for even him to ignore. The clone turned to look at the other two. They still had yet to say one word and it was starting to freak him out. “So, um, according to my map the beacon should be over here.” Oscar Mike said.

Still no response.

The clone started to whistle nervously but then he remembered he didn’t know how to whistle, so he went back to humming.

The beacon was overlooking a gorgeous waterfall. Oscar Mike ran ahead (to check out the waterfall and not because he wanted to get away from the other two) and peered down the cliff. “Whoa, I bet you could do some sick dives off of this thing!” he had to yell to be heard over the rushing water.

Caldarius leveled his submachine gun at the beacon and fired until it was atomized. “Mission complete,” the ex-gladiator said gruffly. “As I was saying before, do you know why I make you nervous, Marquis.”

“Oh don’t even start with me, you cosplaying jackass.” Marquis snarled.

Oscar Mike was suddenly aware that maybe these two weren’t on good terms. “Hey, dudes!” he said trying to diffuse the situation. “Let me tell you about this cute thing one of my cats did the other day! It was totally awesome!”

“I make you nervous,” Caldarius continued ignoring Oscar Mike completely, “Because you’re aware of your own inadequacies.”

“Hey, have you guys seen that holo-vid of that scalewolf puppy walking on its hindlegs like a person? Heh! How cute was that? Wait, I bet I can pull it up...”

“I don’t have any inadequacies.” Marquis sneered. “I am the perfect example of LLC ingenuity.”

“Oh I’m sure,” Caldarius narrowed his eyes. “Tell me. When did the ‘fuck your employer’s daughter’ protocol kick in? Just curious. Did it come installed or was it an update?”

Oscar Mike slowly edged away from them. “Guys,” he whispered onto his comm. “I got a situation here that I’m not sure how to handle.”

“My relationship with Phoebe didn’t start until _after_ she was eighteen.” Marquis retorted. His eye flashed. “A relationship that she instigated and pursued. What Phoebe Elizabeth Audelia Hemsworth IV wants, Phoebe Elizabeth Audelia Hemsworth IV gets!”

“Wow. You make it sound like she forced herself on you.”

“What?” Marquis sputtered. “Do not go putting words in my mouth, you classless Liberal Arts major!”

“Oscar, is that you?” Mellka said over the comm. “What’s going on?”

Oscar Mike sounded close to tears. “Caldarius and Marquis are fighting and I don’t know what to do! I tried showing them the scalewolf puppy video, but they just ignored me and it’s really tense here. Permission to come home?”

“Ghalt, do something!” Deande could be heard yelling. “You know how sensitive he is!”

“Nuh-uh!” Oscar Mike said in a teary voice. “I’m a badass!”

“We know, Oscar.” Mellka said quickly, “It’s just, you don’t handle situations that you can’t shoot your way out of well.”

This was true. Didn’t mean he had to like it. “Yeah well, how about when I get back to the ship I prove how _not_ sensitive I am by wrestling you into submission and doing push-ups until I vomit? Boom! In your face!”

“Right,” Mellka said. “Or I can just put on _One Star to Live_ and make you some hot chocolate.”

“Can I have extra marshmallows?”

“You know it, buddy.”

“Hell yeah! Let’s do that!”

“I don’t even work for the LLC technically,” Marquis said. “It’s just a cover so that Phoebe and I can be together.”

“I bet you cash their checks just the same.” Caldarius shot back. “How does that work exactly?”

“Ha! I’d love to see Baron Doesn’t-Know-His-Own-Passcodes not pay me.”

“Wow, stealing from her father. Sure that’s the basis of a trusting and healthy relationship.” Caldarius turned his back on the Magnus and stared at the waterfall. “And speaking of healthy, tell me. How long have you known Phoebe?”

“All her life,” Marquis said proudly. “I raised and protected her as I did her father.”

“Ah, I see.” Caldarius said in a contemplative tone. “So, you see nothing creepy or unsavory about having a relationship with a woman that you raised from birth?”

“I told you—ˮ

“Yes, yes,” Caldarius waved a hand in dismissal. “That you didn’t start having a relationship with Miss Phoebe until blah, blah, blah. Still, it makes one wonder. How long have you been, I believe the term is ‘grooming’. Yes, how long have you been grooming Miss Phoebe?”

Marquis surged forward and with all the strength he could muster he shoved Caldarius from where he stood. The surprised shock trooper hit the waterfall and tried to activate his jetpack. Unfortunately, the water kept that from happening and Caldarius found himself falling into the river below. He let out an outraged roar as he was swept away by the current.

Marquis leaned over to watch as Caldarius’s armored arm disappeared beneath the water’s surface.

The Magnus felt incredible. He started laughing, a small chuckle at first before it evolved into an outright cackle.

“Uh,” Oscar Mike stared.

“Oscar?” Deande called. “What’s wrong?”

“Uhhhhhh…”

Marquis sauntered over to Oscar Mike and took hold of his arm. He chose to ignore how the clone flinched at his touch. “We will be heading back to the ship, _ja_? The beacon has been taken care of.”

“Marquis?” Deande sounded wary. “What happened?”

“Sorry, can’t talk now. We will see you soon. _Auf Wiedersehen_!” The Magnus shut off Oscar Mike’s comm. He put a finger to his face plate. “Not a word about Caldarius or I will make you disappear, understand?” Oscar Mike didn’t answer. Marquis sighed. “I will take your silence as agreement. Good.” The Magnus released the clones arm and started walking to where NOVA would pick them up, singing a jaunty tune.

***

By the time they reached the ship, Marquis had slowed his pace until he was walking behind Oscar Mike. The Magnus realized that a quiet Oscar Mike wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Marquis activated Bindlebane’s pistol form. If need be, he’d shoot the clone in the back and dispose of his body. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Marquis had no problem slaughtering organics, but Phoebe would be terribly disappointed if he broke their alliance with the rest of the Battleborn over such a trivial thing like murder.

The second that his foot touched the metal of NOVA’s ramp, Oscar Mike activated his stealth shield and ran. “Later, nerd!”

“Damn it!” Marquis fired Bindlebane wildly hoping that one of the bullets would hit the clone. “ _Du mieses Stück Scheiße_!”

Oscar Mike ran until he reached the briefing room. “Guys!” he panted. “Marquis shoved Caldarius off a waterfall! Then he threatened to kill me!” Oscar Mike looked behind him and yelped. He sprinted to where Deande, Mellka, and Whiskey Foxtrot stood and hid behind them.

Marquis appeared in the doorway a second later still wielding his gun-cane. The other Battleborn pulled out their weapons. “Marquis,” Ghalt said as he leveled his shotgun at the Magnus. “Put away your weapon.”

“Of course, Captain.” Marquis said in a genteel tone. He didn’t put the cane away, but he did lower it. “I, ah, only wish to have a word with Oscar Mike.”

“No way!” Oscar Mike said. He peeked from around Deande’s side. “He totally wants to shoot me!”

“Or batter you to death,” Marquis shrugged. “If I’m honest, shooting you would probably be better. Less chance of you bleeding on me.”

“This is why we shouldn’t let Magnuses be a part of the team!” Kleese shouted. He activated his shield. “The Great Severance turned them into homicidal freaks!”

“I resent that,” ISIC said. “I haven’t killed anyone in almost three days!”

“Wait. Who did you…ˮ

“Ha! Ha! It’s okay. It was nobody any of you knew.”

“Marquis,” Ghalt gestured for the Magnus to sit. “What did you do to Caldarius?”

Marquis crossed his legs. “Well, considering that he’s filthy unemployed hobo, I decided that Caldarius could benefit from a bath. So, I decided to provide him with a little help.”

“You shoved him off a cliff!” Oscar Mike shouted.

“Into a waterfall and subsequently the river below,” Marquis clarified. He shrugged. “I do feel terrible about—” Marquis burst into laughter. “Oh, apologies. I really thought I could finish that sentence without laughing.”

“Caldarius has returned,” NOVA announced. “And he’s dripping all over my floor.”

“Oh shit.” Marquis clamored to his feet. “It was lovely chatting with you. I must be on my way.” The Magnus shoved his way past Benedict and Thorn, ignoring their complaints as he did so.

Caldarius appeared in the opposite door. The shock trooper was dripping wet, grass and mud coated his armor. There also appeared to be a snail crawling on his helmet.

“Where is he?” Caldarius roared.

The other Battleborn pointed in the direction that Marquis had fled.

With a snarl, Caldarius sprinted after the Magnus. He paused only to grab Benedict’s rocket launcher.

“What the shit do you think you’re doin’?” Benedict tried to grab his precious weapon back. Caldarius moved out of his reach.

“I’m borrowing this.” The Kemessian said before running off.

“Well, that happened.” Reyna said.

There was a moment of silence.

“So,” Alani said. “Are we just not going to talk about the person ISIC killed?”

***

Marquis was glad he didn’t have lungs. If he did, they’d probably be on fire. The Magnus just had to make it to Phoebe’s lab. There was no way Caldarius would try anything in front of her.

Plus the door had a very good lock.

Marquis had just made it to the medbay when he heard the telltale sound of rockets being launched. He ducked out of the way just as three of them headed his way. They missed him but destroyed the medbay wall.

“What the fuck!” Beatrix exclaimed from inside. The Jennerit physician’s face appeared in the hole. “Seriously?”

Caldarius cursed and tossed the rocket launcher away. He pulled out his submachine gun. “This doesn’t involve you, Beatrix.”

“You just blew a hole in my wall! I feel pretty involved! Why are you wet?”

“This is between me and Marquis.” Caldarius eyed the Magnus currently sprawled on the floor. “You shoved me into a river.”

“I gave you a much needed bath,” Marquis replied in a scathing tone. He got to his feet and dusted himself off. “You’re welcome.”

“It just kills you doesn’t it? That I might actually have a chance with Miss Phoebe.”

“It doesn’t and you don’t.”

“Whoa, what is happening here?” Beatrix asked. She looked between Marquis and Caldarius. “And does it involve one of you fixing my wall?”

“You’re pathetic,” Caldarius said. “You know what your real problem is? You’re afraid that one day Phoebe is going to realize that she prefers a warm, organic body opposed to a windup fucktoy!”

Marquis brought the back of hand across Caldarius’s helmeted face. The ex-gladiator’s head rocked back from the blow. “I challenge you,” Marquis seethed. “To a duel!”

“A duel?” Caldarius blinked.

“ _Ja_! To the death! For Phoebe’s affection!” Marquis’s eye flashed.

Caldarius chuckled. “I accept!” he said.

“Excellent! We’re still above the dwarf planet. That shall be our dueling ground. We leave at this very moment.”

“Actually, I need to dry off my armor. The dampness is really unpleasant…”

“I admit your constant squelching would be a distraction, but if you think I’m going to allow you to get fully rested...” Marquis looked at his pocket watch. “ _Mein gott_ , would you look at the time. It’s almost lunch! I have to at least get a sandwich to Phoebe. She gets these breakthroughs and goes to her lab and spends hours there. Sometime she forgets to eat.”

Caldarius imagined. “I can imagine. So are we dueling in, like?”

“Hmm, does an hour and a half work for you?”

“Let’s make it an even two. That’ll give me time to get dry and get some food myself. Can’t duel on an empty stomach.”

“ _Ja_ , two hours should do it.” Marquis nodded, distracted as he tried to figure out what he’d bring Phoebe for lunch. “After your two hours I will see you below where I will kill you and be rid of your presence. For good.”

Caldarius laughed. “Don’t be so sure, Magnus. I’m a warrior. You’re a glorified babysitter and butler. It won’t even be close.”

“We shall see.”

They went in opposite directions to prepare.

Beatrix sighed. “I’ll just stay in my medbay,” she muttered. “That way I won’t be a part of the ship’s shenanigans. Brilliant plan, Beatrix! Look how that turned out. NOVA, please alert Ghalt that my wall has a freaking hole in it!”

“I already told him.” NOVA sighed. “And I told him about the duel. Everyone’s taking bets.”

Beatrix sighed again. “Of course they are.” She tapped her fingers against her syringe arm, lost in thought. “Hey, NOVA could you ask Ghalt that if it’s possible that in the event of Caldarius’s death I could have his corpse. I always wanted to know what he looks like outside that armor. I would really appreciate it.”

“Uh, I’ll run it by him. I guess.”

“Thank you, NOVA.”

***

Marquis found Phoebe still in her lab. The heiress had taken off her skirt and was currently floating close to the ceiling. “Hello, Marquis!” Phoebe waved. “Ooh, did you bring me lunch? Lovely!”

“Whatever are you doing up there?”

She pointed at her stocking clad legs, covered in coin sized glowing discs. “Well, you know how I use a combination of Eldrid magic and technology to float instead of walk? I created these marvelous little discs that help boost my height. Plus, they’re marvelous for working on my core. Aren’t they lovely?”

“Beautiful.” Marquis agreed. He stared up at Phoebe.

Phoebe looked down at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, _meine Blume_.” Marquis replied in a wistful tone. “I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

“Oh, Marquis!” Phoebe tried to reach down for him only to realize she couldn’t.   
“Oh, wait. Hang on.” She spun her arms, furiously. Phoebe frowned as she stayed afloat. “Well, that didn’t work. Ooh! I have an idea.” She took hold of one of the discs above her knee and pulled until it came free.  As soon as it was in her hand, the heiress dropped. “Waaugh!”

Marquis ran forward to catch her. “Phoebe!”

Luckily, she stopped inches from the floor. “I’m okay!” Phoebe moved to take hold of Marquis. She kissed his neck. “I must remember to include that in my notes.” She murmured between kisses.

“You will be the death of me, woman.” Marquis sighed. He held her in his arms, gently stroking her blonde hair. “I…I must go, _meine Blume_.”

“Aww, what’s the hurry?”

Marquis tried to think of a valid excuse. “I’m needed down below.” He said. “On the planet.”

“I thought you just came back from there.”

“I did, but I need to go down there again. You understand. Loose ends and all that.”

Phoebe sighed. “Well, I’ll see you later for dinner, right? I know you dislike eating in the mess hall, but it would nice to eat with you this evening. Well,” she grinned. “I guess it would be more you watching me eat, yes? The point is we’ll be together.”

Marquis shuddered at the thought at being in the mess hall with the rest of those…barbarians. “Of course, _meine Blume_. I…would love to.”

“Ta-ta, Marquis!” Phoebe slapped the disc back onto her knee. She immediately started to rise. “Wheee!”

Well, that settled that. Marquis gripped Bindlebane tightly in his hand. Caldarius may have a thousand years of experience, he may have his warrior skills, and he may have the knowledge of gladiator, but Marquis wouldn’t lose to him. He refused to lose.

Phoebe was waiting for him and the Magnus would be damned if he disappointed her.

***

Beatrix sighed. “What happened exactly?”

Phoebe cleared her throat. She watched as the Jennerit physician picked bits of glass out of her arm. “Like Icarus I flew too close to the sun.”

Beatrix frowned. “What?”

“I tried…to alter the acceleration of my hovering,” Phoebe blushed. “Ended up crashing into a table of beakers.”

“Wow, that sounds embarrassing.”

“It was, trust me.” Phoebe winced as the last shard was removed. “Usually I would go to Miko, but I couldn’t find them.”

“So, you came to me as a last resort.” Beatrix rolled her eye. “I’m touched.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Phoebe said. She noticed the Jennerit’s temperament. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Beatrix demanded. She slammed the tweezers down. “I’ve been here for almost a year and a half and barely anyone comes to me! They all go to Miko or a drone! I’m a capable doctor! Back on Tempest I barely lost any patients.”

“Didn’t you drug Attikus and try to do a spinal tap?”

“Brainstem biopsy,” Beatrix corrected. “But—”

“And you tried to slice up Orendi?”

Beatrix huffed. “Okay, I see your point.” She rubbed a hand over her syringe arm, staring deeply into the red liquid inside. “I just wish people would get over it! I’m trying my best. And sometimes it gets lonely.”

“Beatrix, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you felt this way.” Phoebe placed her hand on top of Beatrix’s. “You know I consider you a friend.”

Beatrix looked shocked by this revelation. “You do?” she said. “Since when?”

“Well, since always.” Phoebe sighed. “You know why I like coming here instead of staying at the LLC 24/7.”

“Our charming personalities?”

Phoebe chuckled. “Well, yes there is that.” She sighed. “I’m a Hemsworth, and I always thought that that name would garner me respect. And in has in a way, but…” Phoebe glanced at her arm. It was bleeding freely. Beatrix dabbed it with alcohol covered gauze. “I have so many people second-guessing me. The board members, the media, even my own parents. It’s like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough. I feel like if they could, they’d pat me on the head like a dog and send me on my way. Do you know what that feels like? To have people not take you seriously?”

Beatrix leveled her with a cool stare. “Thanks to my mother petitioning for my Sustainment against my wishes, I’m forever stuck with the body of a fifteen-year old girl.”

Phoebe nodded. “Right,” she coughed. “Fair point. Anyway, the reason I like it here is because I’m not just Phoebe Elizabeth Audelia Hemsworth IV, heiress and all that. Here, I’m Phoebe Elizabeth Audelia Hemsworth IV, Battleborn who just happens to be an heiress. None of you care about my title or my money. You care about what’s important.” She smiled. “How well I can fight.”

That actually got a laugh from Beatrix. “That’s true. It is nice to be appreciated.” The doctor got quiet. “Why do you consider me a friend? Back when we were on Ekkunar competing, all we did was snipe at one another.”

Phoebe laughed. “Beatrix!  It’s called ‘giving each other shit’. That’s what friends do. I mean I _think_. Truth be told I…may not have had many—” she coughed loudly. “Or you know, _any_ friends when I was younger. It’s hard to make friends when you’re constantly worried about people using you to further their own goals. I did have Marquis though.” Phoebe smiled fondly.

Beatrix sighed. “I know that feeling. In order for one to be approved for Sustainment, you have to prove you’re an exemplary member of Jennerit society. My mother pushed me to excel academically to impress the Silent Sisters.” She looked at her syringe arm. “Not really time to make friends when you’re doing twice the normal course load.”

Phoebe whistled. “Wait, you said you were Sustained against your wishes? Does that happen a lot?”

Beatrix shrugged. “I was dying. My mother didn’t want me to die. I’m sure that she thought she was helping me or maybe she just didn’t want to be the Silent Sister with the dead kid. Who knows? Who cares? I’m here now. Nothing else to do about it.”

Phoebe took her hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. Beatrix. I like you because you challenge me intellectually. If you weren’t here who would I rely on to do that?” she snorted. “Kleese?”

They both cracked up at that.

“Oh,” Phoebe wiped a tear. “I needed that. But seriously,” she gave Beatrix’s hand a squeeze. “You are my friend. We’re, um, we’re Science Buddies! Yes! That works!”

Beatrix considered that. Rolled the concept around in her mind. She decided she liked it. “Um as friends, do we tell each other things?”

“Of course.” Phoebe smiled.

“Well, then as your Science Buddy I think should know that Marquis and Caldarius are down on the planet right now about to duel to death over you.”

Phoebe’s smile looked a bit more frozen. “I’m sorry what?”

“Yeah. They were fighting about you this morning. They did that to my wall.” Beatrix pointed.

“Yes. I wanted to ask about the hole, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” Phoebe got to her feet and smoothed down her dress. “Beatrix, thank you for informing me of this. I need to go rectify this. We should hang out more. I’ll see you later. Okay?”

“Sure.” Beatrix said. “Um, good luck.” When Phoebe was gone, the Jennerit physician sighed. “A friend, huh? Wow, it only took seventy years but better late than never.” She frowned and went over to her computer. “Computer? Research all information on the following subjects: ‘Friends’, ‘Things Friends Do Together’, and ‘Activities Friends Do Together’.” She paused. “Safe Search filter on. Please and thank you.”

***

Marquis stood across Caldarius. Pendles, ISIC, Shayne and Aurox, and Benedict sat on the sidelines observing.

“Shall we do this the traditional way?” Marquis asked. “Ten paces?”

Caldarius nodded. “Sounds good. Sometimes the old ways are the best way.”

“Very well,” Marquis knew that he could use his Temporal Distortion to slow Caldarius down if he needed to. Bindlebane was his pride and joy, but realistically there was no way it could go up against Caldarius’s submachine gun. If need be, he could use his Temporal Distortion then hit the bastard with a Bindleblast.

“Ready?” Caldarius asked.

“Ready. Ten paces.” _Ein, zwei, drei, vier, funf, sechs, sieben, acht, neun…_

Marquis whirled around Bindlebane at the ready. Caldarius spun around a split second later.

_Zehn!_

“Marquis d’Caliber! What in Solus do you think you are doing?!”

Oh. Oh no. Marquis collapsed his gun back into a cane and held it behind his back. “Phoebe.”

The heiress stalked toward them, the Five Virtues floating behind her. “Just what is going on here?” she demanded.

Caldarius cleared his throat. “Um, we were just…”

“I know exactly what you’re doing! What I want to know is why?” Phoebe turned to the Battleborn watching. “You fucking enablers!” she snarled at them.

“Whoa!” Pendles held up a hand. “It’s not like that. We were just, uh, watching in case we needed to step in.”

“Not me,” ISIC piped up. “I was here to loot their corpses.”

Pendles facepalmed. “Goddammit, ISIC.” He hissed.

Benedict examined his talons. “I was here to watch Caldarius get shot in the face.” He admitted. The Kemessian turned to him. “Don’t look at me like that! You stole my rocket launcher! Then you just left it on the fuckin’ floor, man! That’s just cold!”

Phoebe turned back to Marquis and Caldarius. “So let me see if I understand this situation. You both decided that you wanted to fight over me instead of, oh, I don’t know asking my opinion?”

“Phoebe—”

“Miss Phoebe—”

“No! You’re both going to listen! If you think you can just fight over me like I’m a prize you’re wrong. Marquis, you know how much I value respect. This? _This_ is not respecting me. You both afforded me the same respect as two squabbling toddlers fighting over a toy! I am a Hemsworth. I am neither a toy nor a prize!”

“Phoebe,” Marquis took a step forward. “Please allow me to explain.”

“I don’t—I don’t want to talk to you right now, Marquis.” Phoebe closed her eyes. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Phoebe…”

She shook her head. “I can’t right now. I just came out here to make sure you two didn’t do anything irreversible and stupid. I’m going back to the ship.” Phoebe left them.

Marquis dropped Bindlebane on the ground. A little uncomfortable by the term of events, the observing Battleborn decided it was time to return to the ship, leaving Marquis and Caldarius alone. Leaving his weapon on the ground, Marquis went to sit on a boulder. “This day has turned to shit.” He muttered.

Caldarius took a seat beside him. “We fucked up.”

Marquis glanced at him. “We did.” He sighed. “She’s going to have difficulty forgiving me for this.”

***

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Reyna whistled. The Rogue commander was wiping down a glass. “Never thought I’d see you in here, Princess. What’s up?”

Phoebe took a seat at the table that served as Reyna’s bar. “The men in my life are idiots.” Phoebe’s tone was sullen. “I wish to drink.”

“Damn girl,” Reyna got her a clean mug and poured her a bottle of beer. It never failed to make her feel more like a bartender. “That is the most relatable thing you’ve ever said. Let’s help you drown some sorrows.”

***

Marquis walked through NOVA feeling despondent. The Magnus has never seen Phoebe so upset. He had never seen her look at him in that manner. And to think, the reason for all these problems was currently walking behind him.

“Why are you following me?” Marquis demanded. He stopped and turned to look at Caldarius. “Haven’t you done enough, Jennerit?”

Caldarius stopped as well. He crossed his arms. “First,” the shock trooper said. “I’m not a Jennerit. I’m a Kemessian. Secondly, I want fix things with Miss Phoebe.”

“You’re the reason she’s upset in the first place!”

Caldarius scoffed. “I know you’re not blaming me for this, robot. As I remember, you share just as much as the blame.”

It would be so easy to take his gun and shoot the bastard in the face. “You were the one so keen on goading me! You know I’m with Phoebe and yet you seem intent to drive a wedge between us!”

“Well, you were the one who allowed yourself to be so easily goaded.” Caldarius countered. “And I believe that if your relationship is as strong as you say it is, you have nothing to worry about. Of course,” Caldarius sounded smug. “Since you are worried about it, it proves that it isn’t and if that’s the case I want Miss Phoebe to know that she has options.” He pointed at himself. “Options,” he repeated.

Marquis felt like screaming. Organics! The Magnus was about to tell Caldarius where he could stick his bullshit logic when Reyna comm’d in. “Yo, this is Reyna. You there, Tin Man?”

Marquis was in no mood. “What do you want?”

“Hey, don’t get all snippy with me just cuz you fucked things up with your girl.” Reyna snapped. “Look, Pheebs is actually the reason I’m calling. After your little stunt she came here wanting to drink so I was happy to get a few beers. Um, turns out she’s not so good with Rogue brew. I need you to come and get her. I gotta admit it was funny at first, but now she’s crying and snottin’ everywhere and it’s bummin’ everybody out. Reyna, out.”

Marquis groaned. Caldarius took a step forward. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it Phoebe? Is she hurt?”

“Phoebe is…I need to go get her.” Marquis sighed. He hated to do this. He’d rather do anything but this. “I…could use your assistance…” Depending on Phoebe’s state, the heiress could get…wriggly. Marquis might need the shock trooper to grab her legs.

It was hard to tell with that stupid helmet, but Caldarius looked taken aback by Marquis’s request. “You want my help?”

“Don’t get used to it!” Marquis snarled. “And don’t believe that this will be a normal occurrence.”

Caldarius rolled his eyes. “I’m only going with you to help Miss Phoebe.”

***

Phoebe had her face on the table and was sobbing loudly. Reyna sat by her and was giving her gentle pats on the back as she wept. She hadn’t seen the heiress cry this hard since the Wolf Sentry mission. “Phoebe, it’s going to be all right.”

“No, it’s not!” Phoebe raised her head. Reyna didn’t know what kind of makeup the LLC produced, but Phoebe’s makeup wasn’t even smudged. “I’m such a fool!”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.” Phoebe reached for the half empty beer mug only to have Reyna pull it out of her reach. “Aww, the mug moved.”

“Sure.”

“You don’t understand, Reyna. I love Marquis so much. He’s always been there for me.” Phoebe sighed. “The LLC can be the worst sometimes.”

“I can imagine.”

“You know my mother keeps sending me lists of suitors? Just lists and lists of men and women that she thinks will ‘benefit” the Hemsworth dynasty. How does she think that makes me feel? God, how does that make Marquis feel? He’s the one who checks her stupid messages.”

Reyna glanced at Thorn who was enjoying a hot cup of tea that was actually only thirty percent actual tea. The Eldrid ranger looked up from her data pad and gave Phoebe a narrowed eyed look of concern. Or annoyance—sometimes it was hard to tell with Thorn. “You really care about Marquis, huh?” the Rogue said.

“Whoops!” Phoebe slipped off the chair. Reyna grabbed her arm and hauled her back into her seat.

Marquis walked in followed by Caldarius. “Phoebe!” the Magnus ran forward. He caressed the side of her face. “Oh dear.”

Phoebe’s face lit up at the sight of the Magnus. “Marquis!” she sang. “I am quite drunk!”

Marquis gave her an affectionate pat on the cheek. “Yes. Yes, you are.” He looked at Reyna. “How much has she had?”

“About five bottles,” Reyna shrugged. “My brew is strong, though. Not like that namby pamby stuff the LLC makes. It’ll knock you on your ass.”

“I’m sure you’re proud.” Marquis would have rolled his eyes if it were possible. He glanced down at the table. There was a little robot on it, wheeling about. The mini bot opened its mouth and belched a long stream of fire. “What in the hell is that?”

Reyna sighed. “It _used_ to be a napkin holder until your girlfriend got a hold of it. Still don’t know how she did it. All she had was a fork and butter knife.”

“She is…resourceful.” Marquis said fondness in his voice.

            Phoebe took that moment to start crying. She leaned forward and hugged the Magnus’s neck. “Marquis, I love you so much! I wish things were different!” She blubbered. “I wish I could hold your hand in public and kiss you and do all the things that couples are able to do! It’s not fair!”

“Hush, Phoebe it’s okay.” Marquis patted her back. “Everything will be okay.”

“No, it won’t.” Phoebe wailed. She lurched forward. “Oh wow, I am suddenly sleepy.” She leaned against Marquis, cheek on his shoulder.

“Caldarius, help me get her onto my back.” Marquis said. “I’m going to carry her to _Kapitalgewinn_.” He sighed. “I think it’s time we returned to the LLC.”

“Booo,” Phoebe protested, her eyes closed.

“I’m afraid you’re being outvoted, my dear.” Marquis knelt down and let Caldarius to help Phoebe onto his back. Marquis took hold of her arms. “Just like when you were a little girl, _ja_.”

“Whee,” Phoebe said, her head falling onto Marqui’s shoulder as her eyes fluttered closed. She sniffed and then smiled drowsily. “Piggyback rides.”

“Commander Reyna, thank you for watching after her.” Marquis told the Rogue. “Um, I’ll see if she can return your napkin holder back to its original state when she’s better.”

“Actually,” Reyna leaned over and stroked the mini bot on the head. “I’ve gotten used to it. It’s kinda cute. I think I’m going to call it ‘Doug’. You like that, Doug?”

Doug spat out a ball of fire in response.

Marquis carried Phoebe with Caldarius at his heels. Beatrix exited just as they walked past the medbay. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“We didn’t do a thing.” Marquis told her. “She just had too much to drink.”

Beatrix put her hand on her hip. “I want you to know that I’ve been doing extensive research and I have it on good authority that as Phoebe’s best friend I’m required to have a personal bias and therefore I distrust anything you two assholes say.”

Marquis scoffed. “You? You’re her best friend?” 

“I know. Surprised the hell out of me too.” Beatrix grinned. “Luckily for you, I can smell whatever she’s been drinking. So, I guess you’re off the hook. But know that I’ll be watching you.”  She pointed two fingers at her eyes then pointed the same fingers first at Marquis then at Caldarius. Beatrix backed into her medbay never taking her eyes off them.

“Ugh,” Marquis groaned. “Now I have to deal with that nonsense.”

“If it makes you feel better, she barely leaves that room.” Caldarius commented.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that might change.”

***

“But what is the purpose of it being gold? Is it meant to deflect attacks?”

            “As I said before,” Marquis said as he strapped Phoebe into her seat. “The gold is simply meant to show how incredibly wealthy I am.”

            Caldarius tilted his head. “Wouldn’t the fact that it’s a yacht be enough of that? Doesn’t the gold seem a bit excessive?”

            “If you keep questioning my aesthetic choices you can stay here! If I’m honest, I don’t understand why you’re here. So either sit down and shut up or leave!”

            Caldarius held up his hands in a placating manner and said nothing.

            Satisfied, Marquis typed in the coordinates for the LLC, specifically the Hemsworth Guildship. “We’ll be home in two hours, my love.”

            Phoebe snored softly, head hanging to the side. Marquis studied her. “I don’t like her in that position. She’ll get a terrible crick in her neck. Would you mind putting her to bed?”

            “You have a bed? Do you sleep?”

            “I power down, yes. The bed is more for Phoebe.”

            Caldarius nodded and went to carry Phoebe to bed.

***

            Caldarius had never been to the Last Light Consortium. It was very…shiny. The ex-gladiator felt like even the trashcans probably cost more money than he’d ever seen. “So, Phoebe lives here?”

            “Lives and works here.” Marquis said proudly. “The arcship P.R.I.M. is the seat of the Hemsworth dynasty. It has been in Phoebe’s family for over five hundred years. The influential families get to live in the guildships.”

            “Uh-huh. Why are we running?” Caldarius asked. They weren’t really. More of a brisk jog, but it was clear they were in a hurry.

            “I don’t want anyone to see Phoebe in this condition.” Marquis answered. “When you’re as big as the Hemsworths everyone is looking for a chance to make you fall. ‘Hemsworth Heiress Spotted Blackout Drunk’ is not something I want running in the news cycle.” Marquis peeked around a corner, found the hall empty and kept moving. “She hasn’t made a big deal out of it, but I know she’s been having some trouble with the board members. They think that she’s not taking her duties seriously what with her constantly running to go fight the Varelsi.”

            Caldarius growled. “She’s helping to defend Solus!” he protested. “How can that be viewed as a negative?”

            “Because when she’s not here, she’s not making the LLC money.” Marquis explained. He sighed. “The LLC is about making profits at any cost. Honestly, the only thing that keeps her safe is the Hemsworth name. If it was someone who wasn’t as influential they already would have been outed.”

            “These people are greedy and ungrateful.” Caldarius muttered.

            Marquis had to agree. “We’re here. Here, hold her for a second so I can type in the passcode to her apartment. Let me know if you hear or see anyone coming. I cannot stress how much gossip could hurt her.”

            Marquis quickly typed in the numerical sequence that served as Phoebe’s password. He let Caldarius slip Phoebe back into his arms and ducked inside. “Well?” he looked at Caldarius. “Don’t just stand there gawking!”

            Caldarius blinked. “You’re letting me in?”

            “Well, I can’t have you standing there drawing attention, now can I?” Marquis snapped. When Caldarius was safely inside, he closed the door and locked it.

            Caldarius stared. “This is her room?”

            “ _Nein_ , this is just the foyer. Her bedroom is further back. Lady Phoebe’s apartment has four bedrooms, a mini lab, a fully functional kitchen, laundry area, dining area, parlor for guests, three bathrooms, a private pool, a library, office, gym, a sparring area so Phoebe can practice her fencing, and of course the entertainment area. The apartment is quite small, but Phoebe doesn’t complain. She hopes to upgrade it later when she’s older.” By LLC standards, the suite was quite modest especially given Phoebe’s lineage.

            He kept calling it an apartment, but Caldarius felt that this was more comparable to a house. “And…this is all for just Phoebe?”

            Marquis glanced at Caldarius over his shoulder. “Well, I live here too.” He pointed out. “I have a charging station in Phoebe’s room for when I need it.”

            Caldarius looked at the polished marble floors and chandelier. He glanced at the fish tank and the grand piano. “Does Phoebe play?”

            “No. She just likes the way it looks. Sometimes when she reads she’ll sit on the top of it. Is something wrong?”

            “Um, no. It’s just a little overwhelming is all.” The Kemessian had never seen such a display of wealth and opulence. Caldarius had a feeling that there would be even more opulence on the rest of the ship.

            Phoebe’s bedroom was as impressive as anything else Caldarius had seen. The second Marquis stepped into the room, the light came on and soft, classical music started to play. “Volume level 2,” Marquis ordered. The music lowered immediately. He pulled back the silver duvet of Phoebe’s king-sized bed and placed her on the silk sheets. “I’m going to put her in her sleeping gown. “They’re in the third drawer of her bureau. The pink one. Grab it for me, I need to get shoes off.”

            “Right,” Caldarius said. He went to retrieve Phoebe’s gown, pausing to stare at a small decorative fountain in the corner with alternating lights. Shaking his head, Caldarius went to the drawers and dug around the third one until he found the gown Marquis asked for. Caldarius felt his face heat beneath his helmet. “Are you sure this is right? It looks quite…anyway, I got it.”

            “Good bring it here.”

            Caldarius did as he told. Or he would have had he not seen what Marquis was doing. “Holy shit!” The shock trooper shielded his eyes with his arm. “What are you doing?”

            Marquis had been the in the middle of unbuttoning Phoebe’s bodice. He looked at Caldarius confused. “What are you—oh. Apologies, Caldarius. I must be on autopilot.”

            Caldarius kept his eyes covered. “Has this happened before?” he asked, desperate to break the tension of this awkward situation.

            “Once. Her 21st birthday. Lady Phoebe imbibed in a few too many Lorrians. That’s a cocktail that’s a lovely orange color. Apparently, you can’t taste the alcohol in it.” Marquis chuckled. “Unlike in this situation, it was treated as youthful folly. A learning experience and all that. Baron Hemsworth had me escort Phoebe back to her room and I put her to bed.”

            “He didn’t help?”

            “Leave a Hemsworth hosted soiree with over five thousand guests? Hardly. Besides, he would have been useless. Man has a minion bot sign his signature.” Marquis’s eye glowed red for a split second before returning to blue. “Look, just hand me the gown and you can step out.”

            “That sounds like a plan.” Caldarius tossed the gown to Marquis then made a beeline for the door. The Magnus shook his head.

            Marquis had just finished tucking Phoebe into bed when Caldarius knocked on the door. “Marquis? There’s someone knocking at the front. Should I let them in?”

            “Absolutely not!” Marquis shouted. He glanced down nervously at Phoebe, but luckily she remained asleep. “One moment.” He dimmed the lights before leaving the room. “Did they say who they were?”

            “No.” Caldarius folded his arms. “He just called me an idiot and told me he wanted to talk to Phoebe.”

            Well, that could be anyone.

Marquis activated the view screen. He fought the urge to groan as he opened the front door.

Patrick fucking Montague.

The tall, thin man was tapping his foot impatiently. Patrick Montague had a thin mustache above his upper lip, a raised mole on the side of his nose, and watery blue eyes. His long black hair was tied back into a manbun which was a pathetic attempt to hide the fact that he was balding.

Patrick Montague was the new head of Minion Robotics after Kleese’s termination. He wanted to be more and wasn’t subtle about it. Montague had no problem stabbing people in the back to get what he wanted. He was the most vocal member on the board about his concern that  Phoebe wasn’t taking her role as Hemsworth heiress seriously and that she should be removed.

He was an all-around bastard.

Marquis looked to the side and saw Unit M4-ND1 or Mandi standing submissively a few feet back. That was another thing the Magnus didn’t like about the organic. Still, he had a role to play.

“Finally!” Montague snapped. “Where is Lady Hemsworth? I need to speak with her now!”

“Lady Hemsworth, is resting.” Marquis said. “She’s not well.”

Montague snorted. “Oh whatever. More like shirking in her duties after going to play warrior princess.” He tried to peer over Marquis’s shoulder. “Hemsworth! Get out here! I need to talk to you about Kimmel! Get out here!”

Marquis stepped out allowing the doors to close. “You cannot talk speak to her in that manner.” He snarled. “And as I said before, Mr. Montague. Lady Hemsworth is unwell and needs to rest.”

“I don’t want to speak to the help.” Montague spat. “Go and get your mistress.”

Marquis was about to respond when he heard the doors open behind him. Caldarius stalked out of the room.

“Who the devil are you?” Montague demanded. He let out a squawk as the shock trooper grabbed him by the throat.

“Who am I? I’m someone who doesn’t work for the LLC.” Caldarius unsheathed his energy blade and held it against Montague’s throat. “Now with that in mind, let me repeat what Marquis has been trying to drill in your skull.” Caldarius leaned in, “Miss Phoebe isn’t well. She needs her rest. So fuck off.” He tossed Montague to the floor. He scrambled backwards. Mandi knelt and put her hand on his shoulders. Caldarius noticed her and did a double-take.

Montague snarled and slapped Mandi’s hands away. He got to his feet. “Y-you’ll be hearing from my lawyers!”

“Send them.” Caldarius snarled. “I’ll return them to you…in pieces.”

The CEO of Minion Robotics paled. “Come Mandi!” he ordered the robot.

Marquis sighed. “I…thank you for that, Caldarius.”

“No problem.” Caldarius nodded. “I can’t believe you have to deal with assholes like that.”

“They are of varying degrees. Patrick Montague is just the highest level.”

They went back inside and joined a sleeping Phoebe in her bedroom. Caldarius took a seat on a couch with satin upholstery in LLC silver. Marquis sat at his charging station and plugged in. “What type of batteries power you?”

“Nuclear fusion,” Marquis said with no small amount of pride.

“That…sounds incredibly dangerous.”

“Bah. The LLC has improved such things.” Marquis assured him. “I—thank you for you assisting me. With everything. I’m…glad I didn’t kill you.”

Caldarius snorted. “You assume you would have won the duel.”

“I was going to cheat. Use my Temporal Distortion to slow you down then hit you with a Bindleblast. Unsportsmanlike, I know.”

Caldarius started to laugh. “I was going to hit you with Flashbang and then use my Gravitic Burst to finish the job. So, I guess that makes me unsportsmanlike too.”

They both chuckled at that. Marquis looked up. “Someone’s calling.”

“From the hall?”

“No, no. From the communication monitor in the living room.” Marquis unplugged himself and threw on his coat. “ _Gottverdammt_.” It was Phoebe’s parents’ special line. If he ignored it they’d send someone in person to talk to her.

“I’ll handle this.” Caldarius marched into the living room. “I’ll just intimidate them like I did the last asshole.”  He turned on the monitor. “Yes?”

“Who the hell are you? Where is Phoebe? Put her on this very second!”

_Oh. Oh no._ Marquis hastened to fasten his buttons. _Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._

“Phoebe is resting.” Caldarius said.

“Well, wake her up! This very instant!”

“Listen here, you pompous jackass—”

Marquis ran into the living room. “Caldarius!” the Magnus shouted before the Kemessian could say anything else. “May I introduce you to Baron Bertholomew Hemsworth, the current LLC Tradelord and Lady Phoebe’s father?”

Caldarius deflated. “Ah,” he coughed. “I, um, hello.”

Baron Hemsworth was not impressed. “Marquis, who is this?” he asked in acidic tone.

“Baron Hemsworth, this is Caldarius. He’s one of the Battleborn. An ex-Jennerit shock trooper.”

“Why is he in my daughter’s home?”

Marquis glanced at Caldarius. “He…helped me carry Phoebe back. She was…injured. Yes, injured. That’s why she’s resting.”

Baron Hemsworth’s brow furrowed. “Is she all right?” he asked. “Do I need to send a medic?”

“No!” Marquis coughed. “No, that won’t be necessary. She just needs rest.”

“Are you sure? Please tell me that she’s been seen by a real doctor and not one of those Eldrid witch doctors.”

“She was looked over by Dr. Beatrix Lucavi.” Marquis lied. “She just needs some rest.”

“Hmmph,” Phoebe’s father glanced at Caldarius who just stood there quietly. “Marquis, tell Phoebe to contact me as soon as she’s awake.” And with that he ended the call.

Caldarius groaned. “I can’t believe I did that!” He said.

“Don’t fret over it,” Marquis waved a hand. “He _is_ a pompous jackass. Always has been. He was an awful child too. Nothing like Phoebe. I mean, she had her rough patches, but her father was a real piece of work.” The Magnus sighed. “I could set you up in one of the spare bedrooms. We can take you back in the morning.”

“That would be nice.” Caldarius sighed. “I could sleep in the chair by Miss Phoebe, but to be honest I’d rather sleep out of my armor.”

“It’ll take but a moment.” Marquis told him.

***

Marquis came online to the sound of someone retching. His eye flickered and moved over to the bed. Phoebe wasn’t in bed, so it was most likely her in the bathroom.

The Magnus went to wake up Caldarius. Chef Rupert was already in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Rupert was acclaimed culinary genius that Baron Hemsworth had snatched from the restaurant where he was working. He was in his sixties and sort of stooped by old age, but Marquis didn’t feel the urge to kill him as much as he felt like killing Kleese. The cheery old man waved at Marquis. “Morning, sir! I noticed that guest room was occupied so I’ve altered the portions accordingly. Lady Phoebe sounds in a bad way. Sounds like a hangover. I made her a traditional fry-up until you can get her some medicine.”

Another thing about Rupert? He was discreet. Even though he’d guessed Phoebe was hungover, Rupert wouldn’t say a word.

Although that didn’t mean that he and Phoebe trusted him enough to let on that they were in a relationship.

“Good man,” Marquis said. “Um, is our guest awake?”

“I heard them bumping around.” Rupert said as he transferred the eggs to a plate. “They haven’t been out yet.”

Marquis went to knock on the door. “Caldarius? Are you up?”

“Yeah, just putting on my armor. How’s Phoebe? Is she awake?”

“Yes and getting sick in the bathroom. I should go check on her.”

Marquis got Phoebe a glass of water and two LLC approved Harrison Specials. “Phoebe?”

“Don’t come in,” Phoebe replied weakly.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, _meine Blume_.” Marquis said in a singsong tone. “Coming in!”

Phoebe was on the floor. She was soaked in sweat, her blonde hair plastered to her forehead. The heiress had the side of face pressed against the toilet seat. Marquis handed her the glass and the pills. She downed both.

“Miss Phoebe,” Caldarius entered the bathroom. “How are you?”

 “My mouth tastes like broken dreams.”

“That’s, ah, very descriptive.”

“Rupert, is getting breakfast ready.” Marquis said. “Let me help you to the room.”

“Thank you, Marquis.” Phoebe sighed. She put her arm around his shoulder. They walked back to her room.

Phoebe sighed as she lowered herself into the bed. “Very nice.”

“What were those pills you gave her?” Caldarius asked.

“Hangover medicine,” Marquis told him.

“LLC created and patented. Harrison Specials.” Phoebe said. She reclined against her pillows.

“The LLC has pills that cure hangovers?” Caldarius blinked. “And you aren’t selling them?”

Marquis and Phoebe exchanged a look. “The LLC keep the best things for ourselves.” Phoebe smiled.

“Of course,” Caldarius sighed. He didn’t know why he was surprised.

Phoebe shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, it takes ten minutes before it’s actually effective.”

“That must suck for you.” Caldarius said drily.

Chef Rupert came in with a hovercart. “I figured that you would want breakfast in bed,” he said. “So voila!”

“Oh, Rupert you are amazing!” Phoebe clapped her hands. “It smells wonderful.”

Rupert bowed. “I made enough for you as well, sir.” He told Caldarius.

“Oh! Um, thanks.” Caldarius wasn’t expecting that. “It smells great.”

Rupert bowed his head before walking out of the room. “Lady Phoebe, I return later for lunch. I need to go handle breakfast for your parents.” He bowed again before exiting the room.

“Toast, toast, toast.” Phoebe sang. “Mm! Marquis! I should invent a knife that applies the butter for you! To the lab!” She started to climb out of bed, but Marquis pushed her back down.

“No! No! Breakfast, first. Lab, later.” Marquis sighed. “Also, your father wants you to contact him. Also Montague stopped by. He didn’t stay long.”

“Ugghh.” Phoebe flopped backwards. “What did you tell them?”

“I said you were injured and needed rest.”

“Good.” Phoebe sighed. She looked over Caldarius. “You’re not eating?”

The Kemessian glanced down at his tray. “I’ll eat in private.”

Phoebe frowned. “It will be cold by then, Caldarius.” She arched a brow and smiled. “Is this because you wish to maintain your mysterious identity?” Phoebe teased. “Can’t let anyone see you without your helmet?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Oh. Um, well I want to talk to you both then you can go back to the room to eat.” Phoebe put down her fork and knife. “Please explain to me your motivations. A duel to the death? Really in this day and age? Marquis, why did you do this?”

“It’s my fault.” Caldarius said. “I was a dick to him.”

“Lady Selene Davenport.”

Caldarius and Phoebe stared at him. “What?” the Kemessian asked. “Who is that?”

Marquis looked at him. “When you…when you said that Phoebe would get tired of me and choose you because you’re organic, I reacted badly because,” he paused. “I think about it all the time, you know. Phoebe getting tired of me. Leaving me. Choosing an organic because it would be the easier route.”

“Marquis,” Phoebe said softly. “I would never…”

Marquis continued. “Lady Selene Davenport married an alien. A Florianian, I believe. They have hair like vines and green skin. Remember when they announced their engagement?”

Phoebe nodded. “There was quite the scandal. Her mother talked about disowning her.”

Marquis nodded. “Until they found out that Lady Davenport’s fiancée was royalty with an impressive dowry then everyone’s tune changed. Suddenly, it was ‘Oh she’s lovely’ and ‘What a lovely match’. Bah! And you,” he looked at Caldarius. “When you said all of that, you just made me remember. You were right. You do make me think of my insecurities.”

“Marquis,” Caldarius sighed. “I was a jerk. I shouldn’t have said those things. I was an asshole.”

“But it doesn’t make it any less true,” the Magnus protested. “Phoebe, you could marry Caldarius. You can’t marry me. You can’t have a family with me. Caldarius is a war veteran. He helped save the last star. He’s…” Marquis sank into his seat. He clutched his head in despair. “ _Organic_.”

“And you’re not going to ask me my opinion?” Phoebe demanded. “Marquis, I love you. _You_ , you idiot! When have I ever taken the easy route? Hell, we’ve been dumping my mother’s lists for weeks! Caldarius?” she looked at the Kemessian. “You are wonderful. I respect you and I think that your shock armor is very sexy and amazing, but…” Phoebe sighed. “I’ve been with Marquis forever. He’s been a part of my life since for as long as I can remember. Do we have falling outs? Yes. Do we occasionally separate? Of course. That doesn’t mean I don’t love him. I fancy you, Caldarius but I’m not about to leave Marquis. I don’t appreciate you upsetting him like that. And I certainly don’t appreciate either of you trying to kill one another!”

            “Please accept my apologies, Miss Phoebe.” Caldarius placed the tray on the couch. He stood and bowed deeply. “I was wrong to try to get in the way of your relationship with Marquis. I underestimated how much you care for one another.”

            Phoebe took Marquis’s hand. “I’m not leaving you, Marquis. You do know that, right? I love you.”

            Marquis sighed. He brought her hand to his mouth in a semblance of a kiss. “And I love you.” Phoebe knocked her tray over as she dragged the Magnus into the bed and embraced him. “That’s going to stain.” He muttered.

            “That’s what the minion bots are for.” Phoebe whispered.

            Caldarius watched the exchange, feeling uncomfortable. He was about to take his tray and leave when he saw Phoebe’s outstretched hand. She gestured for him. The ex-gladiator sighed and went over to the bed. It creaked under their combined weight. Caldarius wasn’t much of a hugger, but he had to admit that this was nice. “Promise me, that you two will start being civil.” Phoebe said. “Or at the very least no fighting in my presence.”

            Marquis broke away from the group hug. His sensors monitored whoever tried to call Phoebe in case he needed to run interference. “You have a call coming in. It’s from your mother.” He went to grab her a robe.

            “Oh, blast.” Phoebe groaned. She slipped on the robe and went to face her mother. “Hello, Mummy.” She forced a smile onto her face. “How are you?”

            Her mother gave her a pleasant smile. “Oh, I’m quite alright, Phoebe love.” Her mother’s eyes darted around. She seemed to be searching for something. “I heard the most _delicious_ tidbit from your father yesterday!”

            “Oh?”

            “Oh yes! I heard that you had a gentleman staying in your apartment! Your father said that he was _quite_ protective of you.” Her mother’s eyes glittered.

            Phoebe’s cheeks reddened. “Mummy, I can explain—”

            Baroness Hemsworth held up a hand cutting her daughter off. “No need, Phoebe. I now completely understand why you never responded to my holomails. Why look at lists of suitors when you already have a beau!”

            “I—”

            “And of course, we _must_ meet him. You should bring him to lunch tomorrow! That would be lovely!”

            “Only if I can bring other guests as well.” Phoebe blurted. She had no idea where that had come from, but she decided to roll with it. Phoebe cleared her throat. “I want to introduce you to my friend, Dr. Beatrix Lucavi.”

            Her mother arched an eyebrow. “That seems perfectly reasonable.”

            Phoebe smiled. She knew how to put an end to this. “And I want to invite Marquis. Not as a servant, but as my friend.”

            “Oh Phoebe!” her mother frowned. “You mustn’t befriend the help! It gives them ideas! Besides, Marquis doesn’t even eat!”

            Phoebe shrugged. “Those are my terms.”

            “Your father and I are beginning to worry about how much time you spend with that Magnus. People are starting to talk…” Her mother sighed. “There are concerns.”

            “Mother, please.”

            “Very well. Invite Marquis along.”

            Phoebe’s jaw dropped. “What?”

            “Phoebe, don’t stand there with your mouth open.” Baroness Hemsworth chastised. “It makes you look common. I’ll talk to you later, love. Ta-ta!”

            Marquis and Caldarius approached her. They had hung back and listened to the conversation from out of Baroness Hemsworth’s view. “She said yes.” Marquis sounded dumbfounded.

            “Yes. Yes, she did.” Phoebe sounded weak.

            “She wasn’t supposed to say yes!”  
            “I know!” Phoebe shouted. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

            “Miss Phoebe,” Caldarius said. “No offense, but I do not want to be in the same room as you father. He just seems awful.”

            “No offense taken,” Phoebe sighed. “That is a fair and accurate assumption.”

            “What are we going to do?” Marquis asked. He definitely didn’t want to spend any more time with Phoebe’s parents than absolutely necessary. They were kind of awful.

            “Why does your mother think I’m your beau?” Caldarius asked, interrupting Marquis’s panic.

            “Apparently, it’s an idea she put in her head when she heard how you came to my defense.” Phoebe ran her fingers through her hair. “What am I going to do?”

            Marquis walked over to the couch and sat down. The Magnus ran the situation through his processor. “We will go to your parents’ lunch,” he said slowly. “And Caldarius will pretend to be your lover.”

            “What?!”

            “Yeah, I’m confused.”

            Marquis nodded. “Listen, your mother mentioned that people are starting to talk about the time we spend together. What better way to draw them off our scent than to present them with a more favorable alternative?”

            Phoebe considered this. Caldarius looked at the Magnus like he’d grown a second head. “You want me to pretend to be dating Phoebe? You?”

            “If I must then yes. Besides, it’s not as if anything will come of it. You’re an ex-slave and spent centuries in prison. You have no prospects that would be desirable to the Hemsworth legacy. You are worthless!” Marquis cast Caldarius a sidelong glance. “No offense.”

            Caldarius crossed his arms. “Some offense taken,” the ex-gladiator muttered.

            “This,” Phoebe finally said. “This could work! Mummy and Daddy just want to meet you. They want to size you up, pick you apart, and in the end they’ll probably want to dismiss you.”

            “I’m sorry,” Caldarius said. “Is this your attempt of convincing me to join you because I gotta say…”

            “Oh this is perfect!” Phoebe exclaimed. She beamed at the both of them. “We can do this! Let me go call, Beaxtrix and let her know what’s happening.”

            Caldarius sighed loudly. He looked over at Marquis. “This is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”

            Marquis knew that he could probably lie to him, but he knew there was no point. “I will be surprised if the meal doesn’t end in murder.” He told Caldarius.

***

            “Oh my god, this is a nightmare.” Phoebe sighed. She was escorting her friends to her parents’ suites. Beatrix and Caldarius were attracting all sorts of attention.

Beatrix was the only member of the little party who actually seemed excited by recent events. “What are you guys complaining about?” she asked. The Jennerit gave them a wide smile. A passing intern did a doubletake, started whimpering, then took off down the hall.

Phoebe sighed. “Beatrix? Have you ever known a person who pretended to be nice to you, but secretly they were judging you? Picking apart your every flaw and imperfection, cataloging it, and then using said flaws and imperfections to insult you or give you backhanded compliments?”

Beatrix’s smile faltered. “Yes?”

“Well, congratulations! We’ll shortly be dining with two of those people!”

The Jennerit physician stopped in her tracks. “Darn, I just remembered I have this thing to do back in medbay. I should head back.”

Phoebe grabbed her arm. “Nope! Nope! You are already here. Come suffer with the rest of us.”

Phoebe pressed the intercom outside her parents’ door. “Hemsworth residence,” a robotic voice intoned.

“Phoebe Hemsworth and three guests here to attend lunch with the Baron and his wife.” Phoebe said.

Caldarius and Beatrix looked at Marquis. Marquis just shrugged.

The doors swooshed open. “Welcome, Phoebe Hemsworth and guests.”

“Ugh, I hate the AI they installed to answer the door.” Phoebe complained. “So old-fashioned!”

“It can barely be called an AI.” Marquis agreed. He left his cane by the door, not because he didn’t want to have it, but because it would put Phoebe’s parents at ease if he wasn’t armed.

Beatrix was starting to get nervous. “Should I have brought a gift? I should have brought a gift! Why didn’t you tell me to bring a gift?”

“Trix, calm down. You didn’t need to bring a gift.” She didn’t add that even if Beatrix _had_ brought a gift, her parents would have immediately tossed it in the bin if it didn’t impress them. “Okay listen. We need a signal for when we want to make a tasteful but hasty retreat.” Phoebe said. “May I suggest three taps on the table?”

“Sounds good.” Caldarius said. The ex-gladiator was looking around the room they were standing in. If Caldarius thought that Phoebe’s apartment was opulent then that was because he hadn’t seen where her parents lived. “Is that a gold-plated vase?”

“Hardly,” Marquis snorted. “It’s solid gold.”

Beatrix eyed a piece of art that she was sure could have put her through medical school.

“Come along, chums.” Phoebe tried to usher them forward. “Remember,” she hissed. “Three taps!”

            Before they walked into the dining hall, Phoebe took a deep breath and fixed her face into a more cheerful expression. “Mummy!” Phoebe exclaimed as she swept into the dining hall. “Daddy! Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

            Baron Hemsworth was seated at the head of long polished oak table. His wife sat his right. Both of them got to their feet to greet their daughter. Baron Hemsworth pressed a kiss to his daughter’s cheek before pulling her into a hug. The hug was so he could stare balefully at her companions. “Excellent that you were able to make it, Phoebe my dear.”

            Phoebe went to greet her mother. She gave a kiss on each cheek. “Phoebe, darling so good to see you!” her mother said. Phoebe noticed that her mother wasn’t really looking at her and she’d bet half her invested stocks, that her mother was gazing hungrily at Caldarius.

            “Oh I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Phoebe said, lying through her perfect teeth.

            Baroness Hemsworth motioned for them to sit. “Alonso! Bring our daughter and her guest some beverages.” She looked at Phoebe. “Alosno is are new robot butler.”

            Phoebe was surprised by that. “You got a new Magnus?”

            Her mother laughed a high, nasally laugh. “Heavens no!” she said. “Who buys a Magnus nowadays?”

            “Montague recommended the manufacturer he used for Mandi.” Baron Hemsworth. “Regular AI are preferable since the Magnuses went batshit after the Great Severance.” He looked over at Marquis as if making point. “Apropos of nothing, where is that cane of yours, Marquis?”

            Marquis gazed across the table at his former employer. “I left it beside the door.” He said. The Magnus noticed with no small amount of amusement that both Phoebe’s parents visibly relaxed at that news.

            A humanoid robot with bone white skin with silver trim walked into the dining hall. He wore a livery suit with a striped waistcoat in the LLC colors. He rolled out a cart with wine and wine glasses as well as a tray of appetizers. Alonso’s face was a blank slate, no eyes and no mouth. If this robot was made to her parents’ specifications then what did that say about her parents’ preferences when it came to servants?

            Alonso poured wine for Baron Hemsworth. “Ahhh,” He said, swirling the ruby red wine around in his glass. “I say, I much prefer a silent butler to our previous one.”

            Marquis tilted his head to the side and just stared at Baron Hemsworth.   
            “Dear, don’t antagonize the Magnus.” Baroness Hemsworth scolded. There was a smile on her face, but it had a nervous edge to it. “Beatrix, was it?”

            “Yes.”

            “My daughter says you’re a doctor? That’s quite impressive for someone your age.”

            “I’m actually older than I look.” The Jennerit told her. “I was Sustained when I was fifteen. I’m actually in my seventies.”

            “Fascinating,” Phoebe’s mother said. Her eyes traveled down Beatrix. She smiled. “So have you been dressing like that since you were Sustained or…”

            Beatrix’s smile faltered. “What’s wrong with the way—”

            “Oh, nothing dear,” Baroness Hemsworth said in a tone that implied everything. “It looks very…cute. So, Beatrix what do you do?”

            “I’m a medical doctor.” Beatrix narrowed her eye.

            “That’s must be quite hard with your limited capabilities.” Baron Hemsworth commented. He sipped his wine. “I would think one needed two functioning arms to be adequate in the medical profession. Two eyes as well.”

            “I am perfectly capable of caring for my patients!” Beatrix spat. “And for you to insinuate otherwise—”

            “Caldarius,” Phoebe’s mother was done with the Jennerit and moved on to her next victim. A visibly upset Beatrix grabbed her glass of wine, downed it and signaled Alfonso for more. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. Phoebe has never mentioned you.”

            “Yes,” Baron Hemsworth said. “You just appeared from nowhere. Quite strange.”

            “I know Phoebe from the Battleborn.” Caldarius said. He shook his head at Alonso’s offered wine.

            “Ah yes.” Baron Hemsworth sneered. “My daughter’s little side project. To be honest, I was hoping she’d get bored with it by now. But I suppose, I’ll have to keep waiting until her little whim is satisfied.”

            Phoebe clenched her teeth. “I fail to see how saving the last star is a ‘whim’, Daddy.”

            “You have real work to do here, but you’re always running off to play with your friends.”

            “We’re hardly playing, Father! The Varelsi threat is quite serious! Besides, I make sure to complete my work before I go.”

            Baron Hemsworth said nothing. He just took a long drink from his glass. Phoebe scowled and drank deep from her own glass. She had planned to nurse it, but it appeared that wouldn’t be happening.

            “Do you have family, Caldarius?” Baroness Hemsworth asked.

            “I don’t. They were killed during the Jennerit invasion of my homeworld. I was raised as a slave.”

            Both Phoebe’s parents zeroed in on him when Caldarius mentioned his enslavement. Caldarius flinched from the intensity of it. He glanced at Phoebe. Had he fucked up?

            Phoebe offered him a reassuring smile before returning her attention to her wine.

            “Uh anyway, I was sent to the gladiatorial pits where I made a name for myself,” was he talking too much? Caldarius wasn’t sure. “I petitioned for my Sustainment but I was denied it. They sent me to the frontlines instead, hoping I’d be killed. I wasn’t. I spent some time in prison—”

            “Prison?” Baron Hemsworth’s eyebrows raised as he turned to look at his wife. “Did you hear that, my love? We have a felon in our home.”

            Caldarius shook his head. “It’s not really—”

            Phoebe’s mother pressed an elegant hand against a perfectly rouged cheek. “Phoebe, aren’t you pass the bad boy stage? Are you doing this to make your father angry? Because there are better ways than sullying yourself with a criminal.”

            “Mother!” Phoebe yelled.

            “Don’t yell, Phoebe. It makes you look common.”

            Phoebe downed the rest of her wine. “Alonso! Another refill, if you please.”

            “I was put in prison for petitioning for my Sustainment,” Caldarius blurted. “After I was Sustained, Lothar Rendain had me imprisoned. A warning to others who sought to move beyond their station.”

            “Well,” Baron Hemsworth said. “I can’t say I disagree with that. There are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You think you’re entitled to something because you worked hard for it? Pshaw!”

            “That’s right,” Baroness Hemsworth tittered. “The status quo is there for a reason, darling. I mean certain things are only meant for the best of the best. Everyone else can have our scraps.”

            “Well said, my love.”

            Caldarius stared at the both them. He placed a hand on the table.

            Tap. Tap. Tap.

            Chef Rupert took that moment to enter the dining hall. “Lunch is served!” he announced.

            “Perfect timing!” Phoebe smiled. Her second glass was empty and Alonso was refilling it before he went to help serve the family.

            Alonso sat their plates in from of them. Phoebe’s brow creased in confusion. “Sandwiches?”

            “Filet mignon sandwiches with garlic aioli mayo and caramelized red peppers,” Chef Rupert clarified.

            “We weren’t sure if your companions knew how to use forks and knives so we thought this would be better.” Baron Hemsworth smiled.

            “Beatrix, may I ask you something?” Baroness Hemsworth smiled.

            The Jennerit physician clenched her hand into a fist under the table. “If you must,” she growled.

            “Your eyepatch—”

            “You mean my cybernetic optic?”

            “Yes. _That_. Is it hard to be taken seriously with that thing?”

            Beatrix frowned. “No? Why would it be?”

            Baroness Hemsworth smiled patiently. “Well, you have a heart on it. It’s very immature. When you take into account your dress with those ridiculous—I mean, _adorable_ ruffles. Well, I just think you’d be taken more seriously as a professional if you look the part.” She smiled serenely.

            Beatrix slammed a fist on the table, rattling the plates.

            Tap. Tap. Tap.

            “Mother, please.” Phoebe said, trying to salvage the luncheon. “You are being rude.”

            “I’m not being rude! I’m simply offering some free advice.” Her mother frowned. “Phoebe, perhaps you should eat only half of that sandwich. You’re looking a little tubby.”

            “Mom!”

            “You won’t be able to attract a husband if you’re flabby. I’m doing you a favor.”

            Beatrix slid her chair back as she got to her feet abruptly. “Where’s your bathroom?’

            “We have one down the hall.” Baroness Hemsworth sighed. “Alonso? Show her the way.”

            “Be right back,” Beatrix said in a singsong tone.

            “Mother why are you talking about me attracting a husband when Caldarius is sitting here?” Phoebe demanded.

            Her mother gave Caldarius a look. She laughed. “Darling, you can’t be serious! I’ll admit that he’s probably a lot of fun, but there comes a time when you stop having fun and grow up.”

            “Here, here.” Baron Hemsworth nodded. “Phoebe, we’ve overlooked your behavior long enough. It’s high time you realize that some behavior is unbecoming of a Hemsworth.”

            “What behavior?” Marquis demanded. The Magnus had been watching and frankly he had had enough. “Besides a little precociousness and over enthusiastic zeal, Lady Hemsworth was a model child. Certainly better than a whiny bedwetter that I could mention.”

            Bertholomew Hemsworth’s face reddened. “I had a medical condition, you blasted machine!” he sputtered.

            “Yes, it’s called being lazy!” Marquis retorted. “You would rather sit there and wet your bed than miss a cartoon!”

            “You can’t talk to me that way—”

            Marquis ignored him. “And unlike you, Lady Phoebe didn’t have friends growing up because she chose not to. She wasn’t friendless because she had a personality as appealing as moldy veal.”

            Beatrix skipped into the room. “I’m back!”

            Baron Hemsworth got his feet and slammed his hands onto the table. “We should have had you scrapped the moment the Magna Carta went dark! You are a disrespectful, homicidal threat to human life!”

            Marquis, folded his arms. “I am all of those things, yes.” He said with pride.

            “You are a threat to my daughter!”

            “I am no threat to Lady Phoebe and you know it!”

            “Your presence is harmful! Your constant presence is hurting my daughter’s representation! There are people insinuating that—” His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “My daughter is having sexual relations with you, Magnus.”

            Baroness Hemsworth gave a quiet sob. She dabbed the corners of her (dry) eyes with her napkin. “Now you see why I’m trying so hard to find you a husband, Phoebe my darling. It will put these nasty rumors to bed.”

            Phoebe lowered her eyes. “Mother. Father. I—”

            Beatrix sniffed loudly. “Does anyone else smell smoke?” the Jennerit frowned.

            Phoebe’s parents sniffed. The Baron turned in his seat and looked. His eyes widened as he noticed a cloud of smoke coming from the hall. “What the devil?” He got up and ran toward the smoke.

            “Oh dear,” Beatrix said. She picked her glass and took a sip.

            Baron Bertholomew Hemsworth started screaming. “Where is Alfonso? The blasted Arinnian tapestry is ablaze!”

            Baroness Hemsworth scrambled to her feet. “That was a present from my father!” she shrieked. “Alonso! Make yourself useful you stupid robot!” she ran to join her husband screaming her fury all the way.

            Phoebe looked at the Jennerit wildly. “Beatrix? Why is there fire? Why is fire happening?”

            Beatrix nibbled on her sandwich. “I was doing my duty as your best friend and providing us with a much needed distraction so we can escape.” She took a bite of her food. “This is good.”

            “Your idea of a distraction is setting a fire?!”

            Beatrix’s eye flashed. “My optic is cute.” The Jennerit seethed. “As is the way I dress.” She calmed down and smiled. “Besides it worked. They’re distracted.”

            Phoebe got to her feet. She wrapped her sandwich in her cloth napkin. She wasn’t going to leave good food behind. “They are indeed. Come on, everyone. We need to get out of here before the sprinklers come on lest we get absolutely soaked.”

            “I thought they’d be on by now.” Caldarius commented.

            “Marquis…delayed their operation years ago after he and my father had a disagreement.”

            “He insulted me one too many times.” The Magnus said softly. “This has been the first fire that the Hemsworths have had since I did that. Ooh, I hope there’s damage!”

“From your mouth to god’s ears.” Phoebe’s muttered. “Who’s ready to go back to NOVA?”

            There was a chorus of agreement. They left the Baron and Baroness’s suites and made the trek to Marquis’s yacht.

            Beatrix frowned. “Phoebe, don’t take this the wrong way but your parents are the worst.”

            “They really are.” Caldarius agreed.

            Phoebe laughed softly. “I tried to warn you.” She said.

            “I guess that since this is over, I’m no longer required to pretend to be your boyfriend.” Caldarius said. He tried to sound light-hearted.

            “On the contrary,” Marquis said. “We need you more than ever. The Hemsworths are under the impression that Phoebe is only dating you to be rebellious and want to ply her with more suitable alternatives. As long as you’re around they can’t move on to the next phase.”

            “Making me go out on a date with those fools,” Phoebe growled. She shuddered. “Caldarius, I can’t ask you to do this.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Caldarius chuckled. He put his arms around Marquis and Phoebe, surprising them both. “I don’t mind being a part of a threesome.” He said. “Besides, how else will I prove to our Gentleman Sniper that I’m not as bad as he believes me be.”

            Marquis removed Caldarius’s arm from his shoulder. He gave the ex-gladiator a pat on the shoulder. “Well, you’re certainly better than Malcolm Peabody. I will give you that at least.”


	4. What to Do About ISIC

**What to Do About ISIC**

 

**Chapter 4**

ISIC and Kleese (No, not like that)

            ISIC consulted his list. The Magnus chuckled and peered into the holo-vid room. Benedict had reserved it for his and Thorn’s date night. The Aviant and Aelfrin were sitting on the couch watching some action romance movie. He watched as Benedict pretended to yawn allowing him to rest his arm around Thorn’s shoulders.  ISIC’s knowledge of fleshy mating habits was limited, but even he knew that move was older than Solus itself. Thorn rolled her eyes, but she leaned closer to Benedict and let her head rest against him.

ISIC decided that now was a good time to act. “Howdy fellas! Whatcha doin’?”

Benedict and Thorn looked up. “ISIC buddy,” Benedict narrowed his eyes. “What are _you_ doing?”

The Magnus made his way over to the holovid monitor. The Aviant tried a different tactic. Benedict cleared his throat. “We, um, we kinda reserved this room for tonight. You know…for us?”

ISIC deleted the movie that was currently downloaded and replaced it with another. “Oh, that’s okay.” ISIC said cheerfully. He moved over to the couch. With a little bit of force, ISIC managed to separate Thorn and Benedict, then he turned around and lowered his body to move them further apart.

“ISIC,” Thorn huffed. The Aelfrin was squished to one side of the couch. “You need to leave. Today is date night. We—”

“I know!” ISIC cut in. He pressed play. “That’s why I picked this super romantic movie for us to enjoy.”

Thorn’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “You are not a part of date night.” The Eldrid snarled.

“Hey now! No need to get snippy! Let’s just watch the movie.”

Benedict and Thorn exchanged a look that they thought ISIC wouldn’t notice. They started to get their feet, but ISIC slammed his arm and charge cannon down on top of them to hold them in place. “Hahaha! Both of you are going to chill the fuck out and watch this movie! I promise to leave as soon as it’s done.” ISIC said. “It’s not very long. Promise.”

Benedict struggled to get out from under the Magnus’s hold, but it was no use. He sighed. “Fine. Whatever. As long as you leave us the fuck alone as soon as the movie’s done.”

“Sounds like a plan! Now everyone be quiet. It’s about to start.”

Thorn settled back into her seat with scowl on her face. Benedict was already trying to think of ways to make it up to her. ISIC seemed blissfully unaware of the tension he was causing. Or he just didn’t care.

He didn’t care.

The movie appeared to be a documentary about a fat caterpillar-like creature the size of a beagle. Another creature joined the first on the screen. The second creature was circling the first and—

Thorn let out startled gasp then she gagged. Benedict’s eyes widened. “ISIC, what the fuck is this?” The Buteonen Aviant demanded.

“ _The Mating Habits of the Krynellian Blood Imps_.” ISIC replied in a jovial tone. “Super romantic! I know how you meatbags are all about this type of thing, right?”

“No!” Benedict and Thorn said in unison.

“Too bad!” ISIC said. “Say! Did you know that the Blood Imp male has a penis that’s more than half the length of its body? And that it has a hooked barb that allows it to attach itself to the female. Look, there it is!”

Benedict groaned and turned his head. It may have blocked the sight but it did nothing to drown out the squeals and…other noises. “Turn it off!” he yelled. “Turn it off!”

“And miss the rest? Nope!” ISIC was enjoying this. “Now, not to alarm you but in this scene the male is going to fill the female with his semen. Hey, Thorn? Don’t you think it looks like someone overfilling a veiny orange éclair with chunky green cream!”

Thorn retched. “Oh gods,” she muttered.

Benedict looked at her in alarm. “Thorn, baby don’t throw up! You cannot throw up!” The Aviant gagged. “If you throw up then I will not be able to keep it in.”

ISIC kept his optics on the monitor. “Now that the female is filled to the brim with the male’s ooey, gooey goodness—” Thorn and Benedict groaned. “She’ll carry the goods back to her nest where she’ll cover her eggs with them. Ooh, fun fact! A Blood Imp nest is made up of the skin that it has shed mixed with the mucus it excretes.”

The Blood Imp female crawled over a nest of what looked like moldy donut holes. She positioned her bottom above it, her opening glistening and quivering…

“ISIC, I will give you all the credits in my fucking account if you just let us leave!” Benedict tried to bargain. He couldn’t take much more of this.

“Then,” the Magnus continued, ignoring Benedict’s outburst. “Once they’re covered the female will pull them back into her orifice where they’ll marinate until they hatch.”

“Why?” Thorn demanded. “Why are you doing this?”

The documentary fades to black then comes back with the Krynellian Blood Imp female visibly swollen like a tick. “Ooh!” ISIC said. “Looks like she’s getting ready to give birth!”

“Oh lord no.” Benedict started fighting hard. He was not sitting through anymore of this. “Let us go, you giant metal asshole!”

“Benedict, I swear to god if you keep interrupting I’m going to break your other wing!”

“Like to see you try, ISIC!”

ISIC chuckled merrily. “Just try me I fucking dare you.” The Magnus returned his attention to the screen. “Now, I don’t know if you know this but—Thorn! Stop trying to chew off your arm! As I was saying, Blood Imps practice matriphagy.”

Thorn was getting greener by the second. Benedict looked at her. “The hell is matriphagy?” he asked.

Thorn had to swallow twice before she was able to answer. “It means—ˮ

“Ah-ah-ah!” ISIC scolded. “No spoilers!”

Benedict and Thorn watched as the Krynellia Blood Imp rolled over onto her back and started convulsing. “What’s happening?” Benedict shouted nearly drowning out Thorn’s tearful praying in Aelfrin.

On the screen, the Blood Imp’s middle started pulsing until finally it popped open spewing forth hundreds of wiggling pale veiny mini Blood Imps onto the ground.

“And that,” ISIC said with no small amount of glee. “Is what I believe folks refer to as the money shot. Look at ’em wriggle! They look positively gelatinous!”

            Perhaps it was the close up of the Krynellian Blood Imp young or the word ‘gelatinous’ , or the fact that the newborns were currently eating what remained of their mother, but whatever the reason, Benedict and Thorn both lost the battle they’d been fighting since ISIC turned on the damnable documentary. ISIC released them from his hold just as the first almost simultaneous stream of projectile vomit spewed from their mouths. Satisfied, ISIC got to his feet and made his way for the door, humming happily even as both Thorn and Benedict fell to their hands and knees as they continued to heave and gag. “Well, this has been super fun!” ISIC said from the doorway. “Enjoy the rest of your date night!”

*

ISIC sat in his quarters almost beside himself with laughter as he conversed with Kid Ultra in their transcode chatroom.

[xxKiD_UlTrAxx]: No way!

[n1h1l1stb0t]: Way!

[xxKiD_UlTrAxx]: But why would she hide something like that?

[n1h1l1stb0t]: Maybe she thought she was protecting you? Think about it, champ. You’re unique. That means people would want to steal you.

[xxKiD_UlTrAxx]: No!

[n1h1l1stb0t]: Yes! Or they could use you as a way to hurt her. So this whole thing was just a way to protect the both of you.

[xxKiD_UlTrAxx]: JUST LIKE THE SONAR KID IN EPISODE 45 OF THE STARJAMMERS BRIGADE!!!

[n1h1l1stb0t]: Sure! Anyway, I have to go, but you should TOTALLY go and talk to her about it. Let her know that you know and that you understand.

[xxKiD_UlTrAxx]: You’re right! I’m totally going to go do that! AD ASTRA!

*[xxKiD_UlTrAxx] HAS SIGNED OFF.

[n1h1l1stb0t]: Yep. Abracadabra to you too, buddy.

*[n1h1l1stb0t] HAS SIGNED OFF.

ISIC rattled around in his suit cackling. Kid Ultra was always good for a laugh.

_If I hurry I can be there to record it!_

*

            In the rec room, Caldarius watched as Phoebe and Beatrix argued about how much honey was appropriate to put in one’s tea. The Jennerit doctor was under the assumption that there was no such thing as too much honey. Phoebe vehemently disagreed.

            “Beatrix, if your spoon is able to stick to the bottom you that means it’s too much.”

            Beatrix snorted and continued to add even more honey. “I have to combat the tartness of the lemon.” She said.

            “One lemon!” The Hemsworth heir countered. “You have one teeny, tiny lemon slice in your tea.”

            “I’m sensitive.”

            Caldarius sighed. He glanced at Marquis who was sitting next to him, busy calculating something on his datapad. “It’s the froyo argument all over again.”

            “ _Ja_ ,” the Magnus agreed. “Except no one’s getting banned this time.”

            “Hey!” Beatrix snapped. “If they have a ‘limitless toppings’ sign then they should honor it!”

            Phoebe took a bite of her strawberry tart. It was the only one she’d been able to snag before Beatrix commandeered the platter. On the rare occasion that Caldarius and Beatrix joined Marquis and Phoebe for their tea time, the heiress used it to get to know them better—or at the very least their eating habits. Caldarius never ate in from of them. Never. The Kemessian slid finger sandwiches into container and closed it, saving them for later consumption.

            Beatrix…well, Phoebe was convinced the Jennerit’s blood was mainly syrup at this point.

            Kid Ultra lingered by the over-stuffed chairs that Attikus and Rath were reading in, his sight set on the table where Phoebe and the others were sitting. The swordsman and the revolutionary barely spared him a glance. The little Magnus shuffled over to stand in front of Phoebe’s table. The conversation stalled as the others took note of his presence. “Um, hi!” Kid Ultra said.

            Phoebe arched a brow. She glanced at Marquis who shrugged a shoulder. “Hello?” she said. “May we help you with something?”

            Kid Ultra rocked back and forward on his pedes, trying to figure out the best way to go about this.

            In the end he decided to go for the direct approach. “I know!” Kid Ultra blurted. He took a deep breath (which he didn’t need in the first place) and started delivering his speech. “I know and while I appreciate what you did I think that it’s high time that we do something about it. I may look like a little kid, but I’m actually fully capable of understanding the complex nature of doing what you think is right and what you think is wrong.” He paused.

            Phoebe was even more confused. “I...guess?”

            The nannybot nodded before continuing. “It’s like that episode of _Starjammers Brigade_ —” Phoebe rolled her eyes. She took another bite of her tart. The heiress hated when the Magnus treated the cartoons in his files as if they were real. “ _I’m_ the Sonar Kid in this situation! But you don’t have to hide this anymore and I don’t need you to protect me! I got this sweet rocket gauntlet and bolo snare! I can protect myself!”

            “Kid Ultra,” Marquis interrupted. “What in the world are you going on about?”

            Kid Ultra looked at Phoebe who was watching him and chewing slowly on the food in her mouth. “I know,” he repeated.

            The Magnus paused for dramatic effect.

            “I know you’re my mother.”

*

            ISIC had been a safe distance away as he recorded what happened next. At Kid Ultra’s declaration, Phoebe had promptly inhaled whatever she had been chewing on and it lodged in her throat.

            Ha! Ha! Organics are disgusting.

            What happened next was a hilarious string of events that would forever warm the bundle of wires and electrodes that could be called ISIC’s heart.

Phoebe Elizabeth Audelia Hemsworth IV started choking. She shoved her chair back and clutched at her throat with one hand and flapping her other hand wildly for assistance. ISIC watched as Marquis and Caladarius started screaming at one another.

“Help her!”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? I’m wearing fucking armor! You help her!”

“I am literally made of metal!”

Caldarius turned to Beatrix. “You’re a doctor…kind of…do something!”

The Jennerit just stared at him. She held up her giant syringe arm. Caldarius winced. “Right.”

            Kid Ultra started running around in circles, screaming for someone to “help my mom” which only caused Phoebe to become more agitated. Marquis screamed at the smaller Magnus to shut up. The heiress’s face was turning an interesting shade of red. In the end, it was Rath who ended up saving Phoebe. He wrapped his arms around Phoebe and tried to dislodge the tart.

            “Hey guys,” Kelvin walked in, “I was wondering if you’ve seen—” The ice golem took note of the situation occurring. Kid Ultra was still running around in circles and screaming. Marquis, Beatrix, and Caldarius were yelling critiques to Rath who had Phoebe in his arms from behind, his face drawn tight in concentration as he tried to dislodge the errant food in her throat. “You guys are busy. I’ll come back later.”  Kelvin turned on his heel and exited the room.

            Phoebe spat out the chewed remainders of her tart. She coughed and wheezed. Kid Ultra threw up his arms and cheered. “Mom! You’re okay!”

            It was hard for Phoebe to effectively glare at the small Magnus, but she tried her best. “Not…your…mother!” she wheezed.

            ISIC chuckled as he saved a copy of the video to his hard drive. The Magnus slinked away satisfied by the damage done. He’d be re-watching that little gem for months!

*

            Verod Rath placed his swords on their respective hooks. It had been a rather strange day. Actually, if the Jennerit was honest, ever since he’d join the Battleborn his days had become stranger. The swordsman took a seat on his bed. Rath wondered when Attikus was going to get back.

 The Jennerit lit the incense on a small altar that he had in the corner. Rath could only light the incense when Attikus wasn’t in their quarters because the smoke bothered the Thrall’s sensitive nose. Taking a seat in front of the altar, Rath closed his eyes and proceeded to meditate.

            Or at least that was the plan.

            The Jennerit found it difficult to concentrate once he noticed the sound of music piping into his room. “What is that?” Rath muttered and tilted his head to the side.

            As if hearing his inquiry, the music increased in volume until it was almost deafening. It was a young man crooning pop music in a falsetto voice.

Rath clamped his hands over his ears. “What is this?” he demanded to no one in particular. “Hello?” he screamed to be heard over the music. “Can someone please shut that off? NOVA?! Can you hear me?” He went for his door, only to find that it wouldn’t open. “What?! NOVA! My door’s locked!” Rath started banging on the door. “Hello! Please! Anyone!”

            The song ended and much to Rath’s horror it started playing over again. He started beating on the door harder. “Please someone let me out! Or at least turn the damn song off!” Rath tried his comms. “Attikus! Come in! I’m stuck in our room! There’s this godawful song playing and I—Attikus? Are you there?” His blasted comm wasn’t working! Rath stared around his quarters in a panic. Maybe he could find the source of the music and turn it off himself.

            The Jennerit started tearing his room apart. “I’ll find it.” He muttered. “I have to find it! Have to make it stop!”

            Fifteen encores later, the room lay in tatters and the once proud Jennerit swordsman sat in the corner, rocking back and forth weeping openly. “Make it stop!” he whimpered. “Make it stop!”

            The song restarted and Verod Rath began to howl.

*

            “This seems almost cruel,” NOVA commented. ISIC had set up a private monitor in his quarters and he and NOVA were watching as Rath tore apart his room.

            “But hilarious!” ISIC said. “Thanks for helping by the way.”

            If she had shoulders, NOVA would have shrugged. “I literally have nothing better to do.” She said.

            ISIC made a sympathetic noise. “Still no robot suit?”

            “Still no robot suit.” NOVA confirmed. She watched as Rath went fetal. “Why are you doing this?”

            “It’s a social experiment.” ISIC lied. “You know us LLC guys. We love science! Even social science!”

            “ISIC, we’re both Magnuses. You don’t have to lie to me.”

            That was true, but he was still going to. “Just remember not to let anyone in the room to help him, keep his comms from functioning, and keep the music on loop. Also, could you record his response? I really need it.”

            “I record everything that happens on the ship.”

            ISIC got to his pedes and headed for the door. “Ha! Ha! Well, that’s not creepy. Thanks, NOVA!”

*

            El Dragón toweled off his brow. He was walking back from a satisfactory training session in NOVA’s dojo. The wrestler/bodyguard paused when he came to a small table in his path. The table was otherwise empty save for a plate with a delicious looking sandwich on it. El Dragón’s stomach rumbled. He had been so excited to try out a new move on the minion bots that he had skipped lunch. “For someone to leave such a tasty treat unsupervised is unthinkable!” El Dragón boomed. He made a sweeping gesture with his muscular robot arms. “If no one is here to claim it, then is it so wrong for El Dragón to enjoy it? El Dragón hungers for glory—and also this sandwich!” He pressed a clenched fist to his forehead, closed his eyes and bowed his head. “But,” he said dramatically. “If I were to eat this sandwich would that not make me the same as Jen from the mailroom? Would this be my new destiny as not El Dragón: the greatest wrestler in Solus, but as El Dragón: lunch stealer?! _No_! This is not my fate! This is not the fate of El Dragó—ooh, is that pickle spear?”

            El Dragon picked up the sandwich and started chowing down. The wrestler wiped the crumbs from his mouth and licked his fingers. “Ahh! That’s much better! The chipotle mayo was a nice touch.” He belched mightily before toppling forward onto his face.

            ISIC walked out from the shadowed corner. He can’t believe how long it took that jerk to eat the sandwich. That’s the problem with professional wrestlers. They’re always performing in case there’s an audience somewhere. Although, the Magnus was happy that the wrestler had liked the chipotle mayo that ISIC had taken such loving care to drug.

            ISIC ran his optics over El Dragón’s fallen form. The wrestler snored, his face pressed against NOVA’s cold metal floor. “What to do? What to do?” ISIC muttered. He could take El Dragón’s arms but that felt cheap and also a repeat of his previous work. What was another fun way to humiliate the proud El Dragón?

            ISIC chuckled, bobbing in his exosuit with excitement as a particularly delicious and malicious idea came to his processor.

*

            ISIC grinned. “Hey, Orendi! How’s it going?”

            The vanimorph was doing a headstand. She narrowed her eyes at the Magnus. “Not supposed to talk to you!” she snapped. Orendi bared her teeth and hissed.

            ISIC pretended to look disappointed. “Aw shucks, that’s too bad.” He said. “And here I wanted to go and give you this.” ISIC held up a black drink can.

            Orendi flipped onto her feet. She dropped to all sixes and scuttled closer. “What’s that?”

            “It’s an energy drink. They call it The Liquidfier! It’s been banned on three planets so you know it must be good! Want it?”

            “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” Orendi tore the energy drink from ISIC’s hand, popped the top and downed it. “Burns so good!”

            “I know, right?” ISIC looked pleased. “Oh, by the way. You should have this too.” He handed Orendi a crowbar.

            Orendi took the crowbar and started waving it around. “My organs are vibrating!” She screamed and whacked the floor.

ISIC grinned and took a step back out of the swing radius. “Have fun, kiddo!”

Feeling especially satisfied after this ISIC walked the halls. He had no destination in mind, but wasn’t there a saying about a journey being more important? Organics were always thinking up sayings when they should be thinking about how to make the most of their laughably short lives.

ISIC spotted Alani sitting cross-legged on the floor in the hallway. The Eldrid Water monk was nose deep in whatever she was reading on her datapad. ISIC considered her. She wasn’t the most annoying Battleborn and like Oscar Mike, ISIC could muster up something that resembled fondness for her. Unfortunately, her sunny disposition and constant optimism rubbed the nihilistic Magnus the wrong way. “Hey, Alani!” he waved.

Alani returned his greeting and wave, but to her credit she looked properly cautious. ISIC had to keep from chuckling. “C-can I help you with something, ISIC?”

ISIC shook his head. “Nope! I was just walking by and seeing you made me think of something really funny!”

Alani brightened (of course, she did). “I love funny stuff!” she said. “Will you tell it to me?”

ISIC smiled and for anyone else that would have been the signal to run. Alani just climbed gracefully to her feet and waited. For a split second, the Magnus was struck by the idea that maybe - just maybe - what he was about to do was too mean.

He shut that feeling down and deleted it like a faulty program.

“Well,” ISIC drawled. “I was thinking how funny it was that you haven’t even considered how much of a sham your relationship with Pendles is.”

Oh! Oh, the look on her face. “W-what? Why would you—”

“Oh come on! Please tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind.” ISIC sighed. “Look, think about it. You two are only together because Pendles depends on you. He needs you. He’s _using_ you. Those nanites that you hilariously pretend are water magic are the only things keeping him from losing his legs and arm. Heck, you could also say that the reason you’re together is because you both came from the same background and your familiar ties provide one another with comfort now that your planet is essentially dead—”

“ISIC, please stop.”

“Nope! Not finished.” The Magnus was on a roll. “What do you think is going to happen when your treatments stop working; and they will. Pendles will have to leave the Rogues because he won’t be of any use without his limbs. And you, out of some misguided sense of—I dunno loyalty or some other bullshit—will follow him. You’ll follow him because deep down you’ll believe that you failed him and secretly he’ll agree with you. Ultimately, you’ll come to resent Pendles for putting so much pressure on you and for having to take care of him. He’ll resent you for the loss of his old life and the failure of his career. You’ll both end your days bitter and unsatisfied, thinking about your wasted potential.” ISIC ended with a prolonged laugh. “So yeah. Pretty funny, right?” he didn’t wait for her answer. ISIC had places to be.

He left Alani standing there in silence.

*

The day had begun so well for Trevor Ghalt. He had woken up with Reyna next to him snoring lightly. Breakfast had been a delicious meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, and this to-die-for croissant that was warm and flaky and filled with marmalade. He had gotten in a good training session to keep him limber.

Now, Ghalt found himself in his office with a literal angry mob storming in and dragging a screaming Gunnar Kleese in tow. “One at a time, people!” he ordered. “Now will someone please tell me what the problem is?”

“You need to do something about ISIC!” Phoebe screamed. The heiress was red in the face. “That Magnus is out of control!”

Ghalt looked at Reyna. The Valkyrie took a sip from her beer and shrugged. She was just as in the dark as he was. They probably shouldn’t have been in their room for the majority of the day but it had been so peaceful that they figured that a little time alone was in order and—

“Captain Ghalt!”

The UPR Captain’s head whipped around. “What? I’m listening.” He cleared his throat. “Um, but what were you saying?”

“He’s being a menace!” Phoebe repeated. “Terrorizing us for who knows what reason! He told Kid Ultra that I was his mother!” Phoebe glared at a snickering Reyna. “It’s not funny!”

“He ruined our date night!” Benedict screeched. Thorn folded her arms and scowled. She nodded in agreement. “The fucker showed up unannounced and made us watch this disgusting video about fucking Blood Imps.”

El Dragón pushed his way forward. He was wearing a pillowcase with two holes for eyes cut in the fabric. “That blasted Magnus dosed a sandwich which I—in retrospect, quite foolishly—ate, rendering me unconscious then he stole my masks! All of them!” El Dragón let out a sob. “A bare face! A luchador’s ultimate shame!”

Attikus stepped forward. He had his arm around Rath’s blanket wrapped shoulders. The Jennerit looked visibly twitchy and his hands were wrapped in bandages. “What the hell happened to him?” Ghalt asked.

NOVA cleared her non-existent throat. “I may have helped ISIC with that one.”

“NOVA, what did you do?”

“I may have sort of hypothetically trapped him in his quarters while ISIC piped in Ziggy Hotbody’s smash hit “Don’t You Know” on repeat, and disabled his comm so he couldn’t contact anyone?”

Ghalt’s jaw dropped. “Why?” he demanded.

“ISIC said it was a social experiment!”

“And you believed him?”

“Well, no, but I get so bored! I have nothing to do when all of you are on away missions and I’m left alone with my thoughts which are just horrible and—and—”

Reyna interrupted her. She pointed at Rath. “What happened to his hands?”

“Oh. That.” NOVA coughed. “So, around hour two Rath may have decided to try to claw through the walls.”

“Holy shit, NOVA!” Reyna ran over from Ghalt’s desk to Rath to study the damage.

“Hey! You don’t need to sound like that. I feel bad enough. Anyway, after that I called Attikus.”

“Kleese, I think you need to have a look at NOVA’s subroutines.” Ghalt said.

“My subroutines are fine!” NOVA protested. “I just need something to do! Maybe if you got me the robot suit I’ve been promised since forever— _Kleese_ —I wouldn’t need to find ways to entertain myself.”

“Oh, don’t try to pull me into this!” Kleese snarled. He wrenched his hands from out of Mellka and Whiskey Foxtrot’s hold. “Let go of me! Release my chair, you buffoons!” He yelled at Kelvin and Deande. Once free the old man hovered over to Ghalt. “I demand that you toss the lot of them into the brig! They shouldn’t be allowed to manhandle me like that!”

Ghalt sighed. “The brig’s not that big, Kleese.” He looked at the others. “Why did you bring Kleese here?”

“Because ISIC seems to be going down a list.” Mellka put a hand on her hip.

“And you’re afraid for Oscar Mike, is that it?” Ghalt asked.

“Hardly,” Deande flipped her hair. “For reasons that continue to elude me, Oscar Mike considers ISIC his friend and the Magnus, in his own twisted way, returns the sentiment. Oscar is safe.”

“Yeah,” Whiskey Foxtrot agreed. “We’re fair game though.”

“I really don’t want to see what ISIC has in store for me either.” Montana said.

Shayne came running in, looking visibly distressed. She had her hood pulled up and pulled tight. “Reyna!” she said upon seeing the commander. “I need your help! ISIC—he—it’s an emergency!”

“Whoa! Slow down, girl!” Reyna pulled her to the side. “What’s the matter!”

“ISIC knocked us out! He gassed us!” Shayne screamed. “And when I came to—” her eyes darted around the room. “I can’t show you here. Can we go somewhere else?”

“Guys,” Ghalt interjected. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else. It’s getting kind of crowded.” Reyna looked over her shoulder at Ghalt. “You can use the bathroom. I’ll finish up here.” The Rogue commander escorted Shayne to their bathroom so she could assess the damage. The UPR captain looked over the crowd. “Okay, so I guess I know why y’all are pissed, but that still doesn’t explain why you brought Kleese.”

“We want him to fix ISIC.” El Dragón explained.

Kleese’s eyes practically bugged out of their sockets. “Excuse me?” he squawked. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Well,” Mellka said. “We just kinda thought that since you were a weeping dickhole to ISIC when you were manager of Minion Robotics you’re kinda responsible for him.”

“How did you come to that ludicrous conclusion?!”

“Well,” Phoebe said with a haughty sniff. “When the Great Severance happened I know that Marquis didn’t decide to end the universe with math or hold me hostage or go on a crime spree that ended with _my_ career ruined.”

“I did kill a few interns, _meine Blume_.” Marquis pointed out.

Phoebe placed a hand on his arm. “Shh, my love. Trying to make a point.”

Kleese gaped at her. “You are actually trying to claim that I made ISIC this way? How dare you, woman!”

“We all make mistakes, Mr. Kleese.” Phoebe said. “Your mistake just happens to have a thing for murder and shooting people’s kneecaps.”

“And ruining their lives!” El Dragón yelled.

“Yes, thank you Francesco. Also that.”

The former LLC engineer turned to look at Ghalt. “Captain,” he wheedled. “Try to see reason! This—this is ludicrous!”

“I dunno. I think they might have a point.”

“They most certainly do not!”

Pendles burst into the room. The Roa looked fit to kill. “Where is he?” Pendles demanded. “Where’s ISIC?”

“Easy, soldier.” Ghalt held up his hands. “What seems to be—”

“You know what he did? You know what he said to Alani?” Pendles spat. “Walked in on her in bleedin’ tears because that fucking robot told her that the only reason I’m with her is because I’m using her for water treatments.” Some of the Battleborn standing closest to him edged away to give him as much space as possible. “He told her that our relationship was doomed to fail!”

“Well,” Kleese coughed. “Technically, that’s true. I mean everyone knows that relationships that begin with one person caring for the other tends to fizzle when the person can no longer be helped or no longer needs help. You’d be doing yourself—and frankly, me—a favor if you broke up.”

Pendles blinked at him. He grabbed a half empty beer bottle, smashed the lower half against the wall and started charging for Kleese who squealed and pushed his way through the crowd where he tried to hide himself and his massive chair behind Ghalt.  “I’ll fuckin’ cut you!”

Montana scooped Pendles up into his arm and held him in place against his massive hairy chest. Attikus grabbed the Roan’s flailing tentacle arm holding the broken bottle with his gauntlet. “Let me go!” Pendles snarled. “You don’t say shit like that to me, old man!”

“What the fuck is happening in here?” Reyna demanded. She came out of the bathroom with her arm around the shoulders of a calmer Shayne. “I leave you alone for five minutes!”

“Your blasted Rogue is trying to kill me!” Kleese whimpered. “Do something!”

Reyna stared at him. She looked at Ghalt. “Is this ISIC related?”

Ghalt sighed. He found himself doing that more lately. “Isn’t everything today?” he replied.

“Fair point,” Reyna turned to Shayne. “I’ll meet you in your quarters. Don’t worry. It’s fixable, girl.” Shayne nodded and pulled her drawstrings tighter as she moved through crowd to get to the door. “Pendles, calm down.”

“No!”

“What the fuck did I just say?”

Pendles gritted his teeth, but he stopped fighting against Montana’s hold. Reyna nodded. “Now drop it.” The would-be weapon dropped to the floor. “Very good. Montana put him down.”

“Fuck this!” Pendles hissed the second his feet touched the floor. “I can’t stay on this ship with that fuckin’— _gah_! I’m taking Alani and we’re going on a trip, but ISIC better be dealt with when we get back because I swear on my sainted mother that if he isn’t, I will kill everyone on this ship who isn’t a Rogue!” Pendles’ tongue flicked out. “Starting with _you_ , Kleese you wrinkled old prune! And that’s a Pendles goddamned Promise!” Pendles shoved his way for the door.

They all looked at one another for a second. “Well, that happened.” Reyna sighed.

Kleese scowled. “This is what happens when you allow riff raff on the ship, Ghalt.”

Reyna growled at him. “Shut the hell up, Kleese before I call Pendles back in here so he can finish the job.” That shut him up. “Now then, what did—”

 Kid Ultra burst in. He ran up to Phoebe and started pulling at her arm. “Mom! Mom!”

Phoebe tried to yank her hand away. “ _I am not you mother_!” she snarled.

Kid Ultra paused. Then he smiled. “Riiiight,” he drawled. “You can’t see under my visor, but I’m totally winking right now. All jokes aside, Mom—” Phoebe suppressed a scream. “—I just saw Orendi and my scans show that her heartbeats are going through the roof! She’s out there running around and screaming and actually climbing the walls!”

The blood drained from Reyna’s face. “Oh no!”  she said in horror.

“Not again,” Whiskey Foxtrot groaned.

“Explain,” Ghalt said.

“She’s hyper.” Reyna moaned. “She got like this the first and last time we let her have coffee. ISIC! It has to be ISIC. What did he give her?”

“I scanned her stomach contents.” Kid Ultra said proudly.

“Oh, so it’s fine when _he_ does it.” Beatrix muttered. “But when I do it—”

“Not now, Dr. Lucavi.” Ghalt cut her off. “What did you find?”

“A set of keys, bone matter, chunks of raw meat, and a liquid composed of chemicals that coincide with an energy drink known as The Liquidfier.”

“Oh my god!” Reyna clamped a hand over her mouth. “He gave Orendi _that_!”

“And a crowbar!” The group turned to see Orendi standing in the doorway. The vanimorph was practically vibrating with energy. She waved her crowbar. “Hi! Mr. Smash-Smash wants to say hello to your stuff! And your faces! And your bowels!”

Thinking fast Attikus shoved the vanimorph back out of the door and locked it. An irate Orendi started banging against it. “I know what you’re doing in there!” she yelled. “You’re having a pizza party without me!”

“Orendi, it’s okay.” Ghalt yelled back. “You don’t want to come in. We, uh, we ran out cheesy bread.”

There was silence on the other side. Finally, Orendi said, “No cheesy bread? Your pizza party sucks and you should feel ashamed!” They could hear her laughter and the sound of the crowbar hitting the walls and floor receding as she ran off.

Everyone still in the office breathed a sigh of relief. “Has anyone tried to, I dunno, talk to ISIC?” Montana asked.

“Oh right,” Kleese scoffed. “Like that’ll work.”

“ISIC said that he’s willing to talk.” NOVA announced.

“Oh.” Kleese deflated. “Well, if you fools want to take the diplomatic route then be my guest.” The old man laughed. “I have to say I can’t imagine who you’ll get who’s dumb enough to be in the same room as that murderous Magnus—”

NOVA cut him off. “He says he’ll only talk to Kleese.”

Kleese let out a sound that was remarkably similar to air escaping a balloon. The other Battleborn stared him down. “You heard her.” Reyna said and folded her arms over her chest. “He wants to talk to you.”

“But! But! But! But!”

“He’ll only talk to you.” Deande said. “You have to do it.”

Kleese looked beseechingly at Ghalt like a drowning man looking for a safe harbor. “Captain?” he said weakly.

Ghalt shook his head. “My hands are tied.”

“Monsters! The entire lot of you!” Kleese fired up his blasters. “I won’t let you take me!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Mellka rolled her eyes heavenward. “Grab him!”

*

ISIC turned to watch as Kleese was escorted into his quarters. The elderly Battleborn had his arms restrained with Kid Ultra’s bola snares.  Ghalt gave Kleese a small shove to get him through the door. He yanked off the bola snares and handed them back to a waiting Kid Ultra. “He’s all yours.” The Captain said before he left.

The doors closed and to Kleese it was with the eerie finality of a tomb being sealed. The former LLC engineer pressed his forehead against the metal and suppressed the urge to cry. He could hear ISIC stomping toward him. “Hiya, Kleese!” ISIC said cheerfully. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” Kleese admitted still not turning around.

“Well, shucks. You don’t look pleased to be here.”

“That’s because I’m not!” Kleese said whirling around as fast as brittle bones would let him. “I’m here because of your antics! What the hell is going on, ISIC? You’ve never acted like this before!”

He half expected ISIC to grab his head in his massive metal hand and squash it like overripe fruit, but instead the Magnus sighed and turned to look at a wall. Kleese had never been inside ISIC’s quarters before so this was his first look. The room was pretty bare, with scatter minion parts here and there, little to no furniture, and a charging station in the corner. Some of the walls were covered in what looked like mathematical equations and snippets of binary code. “Uh, ISIC?”

“Kleese, what do you do when the thing that you love doing no longer brings you joy?”

“Is this a hypothetical question or…”

“I love killing. Absolutely bonkers over it, but I can’t find any satisfaction in it anymore.” ISIC sounded despondent. “I mean, I’m out there all the time killing Varelsi and it’s just not the same.” ISIC sighed. “I was really banking on The Algorithm working and destroying the universe and when you guys ruined my plans I was counting on us failing to save Solus. But we won and now I’m stuck wondering if this is my existence now. Killing for survival. Oh god. It’s like a job now, Kleese! Killing the Varelsi and threats to Solus is literally my job now. It used to be fun and now it’s just work.” ISIC lowered himself to floor. “Just work.”

Kleese didn’t know what to make of this. “Um. Well, yes but that still doesn’t explain how you’ve been acting recently.”

“Oh that.” ISIC was still facing the wall and it was unnerving Kleese. “My realization that killing things no longer brought me the satisfaction that it once did understandably upset me so I tried to find a distraction. Something to bring meaning to my otherwise mundane existence.”

“Oh. My. God.” Kleese said with growing realization. It was all clearer now. It was all horribly clearer now. “You’re _bored_! You’ve been torturing people because you’re bored!”

ISIC got to his feet so he could turn around to look at Kleese. “Well, duh.” ISIC said. “I just said that. What should I do, Kleese?”

“How the hell should I know?” Kleese bleated. He cleared his throat. “Maybe you should think about getting a hobby, eh? Something that you can focus your processor on when you’re not, er, working?” Kleese lowered himself to the floor because he didn’t see a lot of chair options in the Magnus’s room. The old man didn’t know if he was going to be able to get back up, but he’d been standing for too long. “Is there anything that you enjoy doing?”

ISIC pondered that. That was a puzzler. He liked killing people, but that was out. So what did he like doing now?

Oh yeah!

“I like helping out in the kitchen.” ISIC said. “It’s actually a lot of fun. Say! Maybe I can have more time in the kitchen! Cooking could be my hobby! Whiskey Foxtrot can teach me!”

There was no way that Ghalt or any of the others would agree to that. “Um,” Kleese floundered. “Well, ISIC we can certainly bring it up.”

“Cool! Thanks, Kleese!” ISIC sounded like his old cheery self.

“So, no more…pranks?”

“No more pranks.” ISIC agreed. “Unless I’m not allowed to cook in which case I’ll start up again and double my efforts! Hahahahahahaha!”

Kleese laughed nervously. “Uh. Y-yes. Well, that’s lovely.” Something was still bothering him. “ISIC, why did you ask to only speak with me? Why not speak to Ghalt directly?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Thinking back to my time at Minion Robotics before and after the Great Severance I came to realize that I consider you to be like a father to me.”

“You’ve tried to murder me dozens of times.”

“Sure! But who hasn’t thought about committing patricide from time to time?”

“No!” Kleese shook his head. “You weren’t just thinking it. You actively attempted to kill me!”

ISIC waved a hand. “Semantics,” he said. “Anyhoo, you should be on your way. Let’s get off the floor.” He grabbed Kleese by the collar of his vest and hoisted him to his feet. “Off you go. It was really nice talking with you. We should do this again.”

There was no way in hell Kleese was ever doing this again, but he smiled anyway and nodded.

*

“Absolutely not.” Ghalt said when Kleese reported what he learned.

Whiskey Foxtrot was less polite. “Fuck that shit!” The clone roared. “That Magnus is getting nowhere near our food!”

Kleese threw up his arms in frustration. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Those were his demands. Let him help more in the kitchen or he doubles down on the pranks.”

“You mean torture.” Ghalt said.

Kleese shrugged. “Tomato tomahto.”

The other Battleborn contemplated this in silence. “The sandwich he made was delicious,” El Dragón admitted begrudgingly. “Before I realized it was drugged.”

Ghalt ran a hand over his face. “You think you can teach him?” he asked Whiskey Foxtrot.

“I mean, yeah. The trouble is making it entertaining for him. If he gets bored with cooking then we’re still up shit’s creek.”

            “I believe in you!” Deande said and gave him a peck on the cheek. Mellka nodded and wrapped him up a hug, the full extent of her PDA.

            Whiskey Foxtrot sighed. “Fine.” He said. “But he has to give El Dragón back his masks. The pillowcase is really weirding me out, man. No offense.”

            “None taken, my friend.” The wrestler replied.

            “Great.” Kleese said. “I guess it’s up to me to go tell ISIC the good news?” He grimaced at their silence. “Fine, whatever! I just want you all to know that I hate you all!”

*

            “So, ISIC’s going to be helping in the kitchen now?” Reyna said. She and Ghalt were in bed, unwinding with a beer and a glass of wine respectively.

 It had been a long, very trying day but order had been restored.

“Yep,” Ghalt said. “Whiskey says he’s not that bad. ISIC apparently likes to fry things. Says the thought of flesh cooking in boiling oil amuses him.”

“Whatever,” Reyna said with a shrug. Those sweet corn fritters and the spicy honey aioli dipping sauce had been fucking amazing. “At least that’s done.”

“I hear ya.” Ghalt took off his reading glasses and shut off his datapad. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What did he do to Shayne?”

“Ugh, he dyed her hair.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. It was blonde. Like, Phoebe-blonde. Girl was a wreck until I fixed it. Had to talk her out of siccing Aurox on him.”

Ghalt sighed. “Never a dull moment.”

Reyna clicked off the lights. “Tell me about it.”


End file.
